Thin Line
by callitintheair
Summary: Warning: touchy subject! John is walking a thin line. His obsession with hunting will jeopardize Sam's health and sanity.
1. Chapter 1

Thin Line

Chapter 1

Summary: John is walking a thin line. His obsession with hunting will jeopardize one son physically and both sons emotionally. Limp Sam to come.

Warning: **Touchy subject! **

Disclaimer: This story is not meant to offend anyone and I do not own any Winchesters, but thank you for asking.

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When Sam and Dean got home from school, John was sitting at their poor excuse for a dining room table in their shabby little apartment, with books and newspapers spread out before him. There had been some unexplainable deaths last year at a nearby summer camp, the owners had come close to closing the doors, but had ultimately decided to give it another go for the upcoming summer, which was still months away. He wasn't researching though, he was just staring off into outer space, and he looked like he had been like that for a while. He was so deep in thought that he hadn't even noticed his sons, the boys liked at each other, shrugged, and then they looked back at their father. They were an hour late getting home, because Dean had gotten detention, usually John would be furious at their tardiness.

"Dad?" Dean called.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked.

John got a look on his face that told the boys that he'd just gotten an idea, he looked each boy over then his eyes came to rest on Sam's face and an unsettling smirk formed on his lips. Sam was slightly frightened by the look his father was giving him; he turned to Dean, who merely shrugged. "Dad did you figure out a way to get into that camp yet?" Dean asked.

Without taking his eyes off Sam, he replied, "As a matter of fact, I think I just did."

Dean followed John's eyes to Sam, a big smile plastered it's self on Dean's face also and Sam finally caught on. "Aw, come on! No!"

"What's wrong Sammy? Don't ya wanna go to camp?" Dean teased.

"If you like the idea so much why don't you go? Send Dean, Dad please?"

"I can't Sam no one will ever believe that Dean needs to go to this camp." John said.

"And I'm eighteen, Dude; I don't go to summer camp."

Sam ignored his brother. "What'd you mean Dad? What kind of camp is it?!"

"I bet its band camp," Dean laughed. "Or cheer camp."

Sam looked horrified. "I am not cheerleading! Dad, it's not cheerleading is it? I can't go—"

"Settle down Son, it's not cheerleading," John reassured him, Sam sighed in relief. "You're not going to like it though, you're going to have to work hard to get into this camp, your gonna need endurance and self-discipline. We need you to do this Sammy, lives are at stake, can we count on you to stick it out?"

Sam was hardly ever 'needed' on hunts, he'd been hunting with his father and brother for years now, but he'd never been an essential part of any hunt and now his father and Dean were depending on him and he was not going to let them down. "Yes Sir, I can do it."

"Good boy."

"Come on Dad, don't keep us in suspense, what kind of camp is it?" Dean asked.

"Well boys..." John cleared his throat loudly. "It's a camp for kids with eating disorders."

"What?!" Dean demanded. "You're going to make Sam throw up every thing he eats! This is never gonna work, do boys even have eating disorders?"

"Yes some boys have eating disorders and I was going to let Sam pick."

"Pick what? Between throwing everything up and not eating at all?"

"Yes, between Bulimia and Anorexia."

"Are you serious?—you can't be serious! He's already too skinny, it's not healthy."

"Registration is in three months, he'll only have to do it until then. People are dying."

"Yeah and Sammy will be next!"

"Dean," Sam said softly. "It's okay, I wanna help."

"Sam..." Dean pleaded, the very idea of Sam having an eating disorder, even a temporary one, terrified him.

"Really Dean I'll be fine, it's only for a few months."

"Not that anyone cares, but just for the record I don't think this is a good idea." Dean said firmly.

John shot Dean a look. "Now, why were you boys so late getting home today?"

* * *

John had made Sam choose his disorder before dinner, so they could decide what he could eat. Sam had decide to take on Anorexia, John agreed that that was for the best, people weren't likely to notice a boy binge eating, but they would definitely notice if a boy wasn't eating. Sam had more superficial reasons for choosing Anorexia such as not wanting to ruin his teeth.

Sam sat miserably at the dinner table, John had made burgers for himself and Dean and he made Sam a good size salad—Man did he want a burger! He tried to pretend his salad was a burger, but is certainly did not taste like a burger, when he had started to drowned it in ranch John protested. "Easy on the dressing Kiddo, think of all those calories."

Sam pushed the dressing away, John nodded in approval and Dean looked sympathetic. "Dad, can't he just eat in our room? I feel like we're teasing him."

"It's going to be like this at school tomorrow, he needs to get used to it." John replied.

"Can't he just have like half a burger or something? You can't just cut him off cold turkey." Dean begged.

"No, now drop it Dean."

Sam wasn't listening to his father and brother; he had to focus all of his energy on not snatching Dean's burger right out of his hand. He could not figure out why he was so hungry, it hadn't been that long since he'd last eaten, and usually he could make it from lunch to dinner without any problems, but right now, a felt famished. Maybe it was just because he knew he could not eat, it was all mental, he was psyching himself out, he had to try not to think about it and just eat his salad. Of course, the more he tried not to think about it, the more he did think about it and the hungrier he got. He eat his salad quickly and then pushed his chair back. "May I please be excused?"

"Sure." John replied.

Sam grabbed his plate, washed it, then hurried to his and Dean's room and did everything he could think of to take his mind off food. After doing his homework and showering, he tried to read a book, but ended up staring at the same page for nearly an hour going over all of his favorite foods in his head. When he finally realized what he was doing he set the book on his desk, and then fall back onto his bed with his hands behind his head, 'this sucks', he thought to himself. He promptly and mercifully drifted off with thoughts of gummy bears, a chocolate shake and a large steak dancing in his head.

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Note: This story is for my best pal Robbie who died in February 2006 as result of his eating disorder. It's true, there are boys that have eating disorders and they should not be taken lightly, they can be fatal.


	2. Chapter 2

Thin Line

Chapter 2

Summary: John is walking a thin line. His obsession with hunting will jeopardize one son physically and both sons emotionally. Limp Sam to come.

Warning: **Touchy subject! **

Note: Sorry I forget to mention it earlier, but Dean is 18 and Sam is 14.

Thank you for reading! I really appreciate all your reviews and PMs, you are awesome!!

* * *

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Who needs food? Sam Winchester sure didn't—at least that's what he kept telling himself.

He was sitting in Miss Day's boring English class, she was reading to them from Romeo and Juliet. She always got way too into her readings, particularly the romance ones; she was a hopeless romantic who was obviously deprived of good sex.

Sam and Dean had been at this school for two months already, long enough for both of them to make friends and they were both excited to hear that they would be staying until the end of the school year. That was over five months away, Dean would be graduating from this school, with people he actual knew and liked. They had just gotten off Christmas break a few days ago and Dean was counting down the days to his graduation.

They were both less then trilled at the circumstances though; they were counting down the days until camp started. Registration for the camp was in the middle of April, three months away, but then it occurred to Sam that he'd have to keep up his act longer then that, because the camp didn't start until mid-June. At camp, he could miraculously get well and no one would ever know that it was all a show.

Sam had been Anorexic for less then 24 hours and he was already getting desperate, all John had given him for breakfast was half a grapefruit and for lunch, he had some rabbit food, with tasteless boiled chicken on it. Although, at this point he wasn't picky, food was food.

He glared, enviously, a the girl sitting next to him, her name was Lola, she'd made friends with him on his very first day, they had instantly bonded over their love of gummy bears. In fact, at this very moment Lola was sprawled out over her desk, trying to be stealthy as she shoveled handfuls of gummy bears into her mouth, for such a small girl she could eat up a storm, she could definitely give Dean a run for his money.

For a minute, Sam wondered if she might have an eating disorder, but she didn't look _too_ skinny and she had a phobia of the school bathrooms, so quickly dismissed the idea. She must have noticed Sam glaring at her, so she held out the bag of gummy bear, silently offering him some.

Sam shook his head and whispered. "No thanks."

Lola raised her eyebrows in surprise, but shrugged and shoved some more candy into her mouth; Sam hated her so much right now, her and her damn gummy bears!

Sam grabbed his water bottle off the floor, John had told him three things this morning (1) Talk about calories a lot, especially around teachers, (2) When ever you get hungry, drink water, and (3) Dean and I are counting on you, innocent lives are at stake.

Number 3 was the only thing keeping him from eating every last one of those gummy bears, but it didn't keep him from wanting them...they were calling to him, taunting him really. And damn that Lola, normal kids had backpacks full of books and binders, but hers was full of food, all kinds of food, he could not hang out with her anymore—she was an enabler!

Sam was startled out of his resentment, when Miss Day got down on her knees and loudly recited. "...and Juliet is the sun! Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon..."

Everyone in the class jerked awake, Sam just shook his head sadly. That poor woman needed a man. Sam was thankful, for Miss Day's dignity as well as his own stomach, when the bell rang for lunch.

Sam practically sprinted to the cafeteria, he sat at his usual table and his friends started to join him. Lola, Adam, Cameron, Ashley, and Brett and of course, they all had numerous pieces of pizza.

Dean came over to Sam table, they never sat together, but Dean motioned for Sam to come talk to him, he to held a tray with a coke, an apple, pudding and three pieces of pizza and all Sam could do was stare at it. "Sammy?" Dean called trying to his brother's attention; Sam looked something akin to a dog drooling over Dean's food. "Sam!" Dean waved his hand in front of Sam's face.

"Huh?" Sam grunted looking up to his brother.

"Jeez Kid! Here I got you an apple." Dean held it out towards Sam.

Sam shook his head. "Dad said to just eat the salad, he told me a could use some ranch."

"Well that was generous of him." Dean growled. "I want you to eat this, it's just an apple." When Sam looked like he was going to reject the fruit again, Dean batted his eyelashes and did his best impression of Sam's puppy dog eyes. "Please Sammy? For your favorite big brother...Dad'll never find out and then I won't have to worry so about you passing out from hunger and I can focus on my school work."

"Well when you put it like that...I guess I'll eat it, but only because I don't want to be held responsible for you not graduating." Sam said.

"I knew you'd see it my way." Dean tossed the apple at Sam, which Sam eagerly caught.

"Yeah, so when you do have to retake your senior year you'll only have yourself to blame." Sam teased.

Dean smacked Sam's head. "Bitch."

"Jerk." Sam replied, but on his way back to his friends, he called over his shoulder. "Thanks Dean." Dean merely nodded and went to his own table, where his friends sat waiting for him.

* * *

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Sam was so sad to hear that they would be running the mile in P.E. class, the very thought made him even hungrier. Sam finished first though and then went over to talk to the P.E. teacher, Mr. Ashby; he was a young teacher, one of those 'I want to be your friend' kind of teachers, who students really liked to talk to about their problems. Sam was pretty sure that Mr. Ashby would never suspect anyone to have an eating disorder, but Sam gave it a try anyway.

"You made good time Winchester." Mr. Ashby said.

"Thank you Sir." Sam replied he continued to jog in place. "Hey Mr. Ashby? How many calories do you think we burn running the mile?"

Mr. Ashby thought the question over for a second, and then gave Sam a puzzled look. "Why do you wanna know?"

Sam shrugged. "Just wondering."

"Well, I have no clue; don't you have health class with Mrs. Bell?"

"Yes Sir."

"Ask her."

"I'll do that." Sam said jogging away.

"And Winchester?" Mr. Ashby called after him.

""Yes Sir."

"You can stop jogging now, go get some water."

"Oh that's okay Sir, I need the exercise." Sam replied was suspiciously, as he could.

* * *

Finally! School was over and Sam could wallow in his self-pity in the privacy and comfort of his own home. Went to his locker and gathered his books and binders he looked up when he saw someone standing beside him, it was Adam, Brett, and Lola.

"Hey." Sam greeted.

"Hey." Lola replied digging in her packet for more gummy bears—she was a damn junky! Didn't she ever stop eating those things?

"Hey Sam, we're all going ice skating on Saturday and then to dinner, wanna come?" Brett asked.

John would never allow that, they were either hunting on the weekends or training, there was no time for hanging out with friends. "Sorry, I can't I'm pretty sure we're going out of town this weekend."

"You're always busy on the weekend!" Adam whined. "Don't you ever just hang out?"

"Not really." Sam answered honestly. "My Dad's kinda strict..."

"Well, it's only Thursday, so if your plans change and you wanna come just call." Brett said.

"Sure." Sam said, but he knows that would never happen. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

* * *

I know this seems like it's not going anywhere, but it really is I promise!!

Hope you enjoyed this chapter, I will update as soon as I can.

Thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Thin Line

Chapter 3

Summary: John is walking a thin line. His obsession with hunting will jeopardize one son physically and both sons emotionally. Limp Sam to come.

Warning: **Touchy subject! **

Note: Sorry I forget to mention it earlier, but Dean is 18 and Sam is 14.

Thank you for reading! I really appreciate all your reviews and PMs, you are awesome!!

I think I replied to all of them, but if I missed someone, I'm sorry and thanks!

* * *

Dean came up behind Sam at his locker and gave him a playful shove. "Hurry up Sammy."

"I'm coming, hold your horses." Sam said pulling his backpack on and closing his locker.

"I saw you talking to your little girlfriend..." Dean teased as they made their way to the Impala, which Dean insisted on parking a across the street instead of in the actual parking lot, to protect her from the scary teenage drivers.

"Her name is Lola and I've told you a thousand times—she is _not_ my girlfriend!"

"Sammy and Lola, that's kinda cute."

"I know you wouldn't understand, but sometimes a boy and a girl can be friends without dating and having sex."

"Are you saying that I don't have any girls that are just friends?"

"That is exactly what I'm saying."

"I'll have you know that Brenda Finch and I are friends and we haven't slept together."

"I've made a mental note to alert the media." Sam said with an eye roll. "And by the way, her name is Becka and I happen to know that the only reason you two haven't done 'it' yet is because Mr. Ashby walked on you two in the utility closest about to disrobe."

"Where did you hear that!?"

"I'm friends with Becka's sister, Ashley."

Dean was silent for a minute. "Are you sure her name's Becka?" Sam only laughed in response. "Shut up! Back to your little gal pal, if she's not your girlfriend then what were you talking about?"

"My friends are going ice skating and to dinner this weekend and they wanted to know if I could come."

"Sounds like a date to me."

"Well it's not! Brett and Adam and Ashley and Cameron will be there too." Sam replied. "Anyway it's not like Dad'll let me go."

"Yeah, but if you could go, it'd definitely be a date."

"Shut up Jerk!"

"Bitch."

* * *

"Hey Dad where are we going this weekend?" Dean asked as he crammed as much of his hot dog into his mouth as he could. Sam was focused intently on his salad, he thought he was getting better at pretending the tasteless lettuce was something else, but until he perfected it... Thank God for ranch! John had said he could have a cup of Jell-o for dessert and he was looking forward to it. "Did you hear of any good hunts or are we just going to the shooting range again?"

"Neither." John replied.

"Oh man!" Dean whined. "We're gonna be conditioning again aren't we?"

"Nope."

"No?" Dean sighed in relief. "Then what are we doing?"

"We're taking some time off." John announced both boys' heads shot up. "What I want you boys to do is try and fit in, if people get to know you they'll be more suspicious of Sam's eating habits."

Dean elbowed Sam and pumped his eyebrows. "Looks like you can go on your date after all."

"Date?" John asked.

"It's not a date!" Sam protested.

"His little girlfriend asked him to go ice skating and then to dinner on Saturday." Dean explained.

"She is not my girlfriend and there's gonna be a bunch of other kids there and besides I'm not going."

"What? Why not?" Dean asked.

"I don't know how to ice skate and—"

"Even better, she'll have to teach and hold your hand so you won't fell."

"You should go Sammy." John said, Sam gaped at him and Dean nodded eagerly.

"But, I—"

"Sam, you're going." John ordered firmly, then the phone rang and he got up from the table to answer it.

"Dude, I can't believe Dad had to force you to hang out with your girlfriend." Dean said under his breath.

"She's not my girlfriend!" Sam yelled.

"There's no need to yell Sammy and if you don't start being nicer to me, I'm gonna tell Lola you said that and then you'll be in big trouble." Dean smirked.

"Go ahead and tell her, cuz she's not my girlfriend, Jerk."

"Whatever, Bitch."

John came back to the table. "Boys I need you both to keep your schedules clear for Sunday."

"What are we doing on Sunday?" Dean asked.

"We're moving." John replied casually.

"Moving?" Sam and Dean asked in unison.

"Yeah, I rented a little house; if we're going to be staying here for the next few months we're going to need a bigger place." Both boys sighed in relief. "Sam I almost forgot, once you're done eating we need to weigh you."

"Yes sir." Sam said. They had never owned a scale; it wasn't a necessity so Sam assumed that John had actually gone out and bought one. John had the scale set up in the kitchen, the box it had come in was tossed on the counter and he was holding some measuring tape.

"Stand against the wall." John instructed Sam did as he was bid. "Stand up straight." John made a pencil mark on the wall indicating Sam's height then he measured how high it was. "5'9 and 1/2." he muttered to himself. "Hop on the scale kiddo." Sam pulled off his hoodie and his shoes and got on the scale, it took a few seconds for the reading to appear.

"129 pounds!" Dean cried. "He's already really skinny."

"I know that son, that's why I choose him for this job, he'll have to lose about 20 pounds before he's really underweight, can you image how much you would have had to lose? You would have had to lose nearly 50 pound—it's impossible! And besides I need your muscle."

* * *

At school the next day Dean wasted no time in making plans for that night and Saturday, now that Dad had given them permission to have a life outside of hunting. Sam, much to John and Dean's surprise, was not nearly as enthusiastic as his brother was, he didn't really understand why he wasn't more excited about this turn towards normal. He supposed it was because this 'normalcy' based on a lie or maybe he was just too hungry to be excited.

Either way, Dean was excited enough for the both of them. Dean came to Sam's lunch table again setting down an apple in front of Sam, as he had the previous day; today however, he pulled a chair up to the table.

"Dean, what are you doing? Why aren't you sitting with your friends?" Sam asked frantically. Dean had never showed any interest in formally meeting Sam's friends and Sam was terrified that Dean would make a comment about Lola being his girlfriend.

"What's wrong Sammy? You don't want your friends to meet your cooler, more attractive, smart and charming big brother?—Scared they'll like me better?" Dean teased.

Sam rolled his eyes and looked at his friends. "This is my brother Dean, Dean this is Brett, Ashley, Lola, Cameron, and Adam. Now what do you want?"

"Hey are you the Dean that my sister Becka almost—" Ashley blurted out only to be cut off by Sam clearing his throat loudly.

"You must be thinking of another Dean, I don't think I know a Becka." Dean replied and turned back to Sam. "I just came by to remind you about what Dad said..."

"Thanks, but I remember what he said just fine."

"Just makin' sure Little Brother."

"Great, I'll see you after school." Sam said shortly.

Dean ignored him, remained seated and, looked around the table until his eyes settled on Lola, who he proceeded to wink at. "So it's all set then, you crazy kids are going to paint the town red this Saturday?"

Dean's actions did not go unnoticed by Sam, who was now bright red, although Lola didn't really seem to take notice. She smiled widely at Sam. "You can come with us Sam?" She asked.

"Yeah." Sam replied dispassionately. "My dad changed his mind; we're not going out of town after all."

"That's great!" Adam said. "I thought we were never gonna see you outside of school."

"Isn't it great?" Dean asked smugly.

"Go away Dean." Sam hissed.

"Fine, I know when I'm not wanted..." Dean said he grabbed his tray and ruffled Sam's hair, just to push his buttons.

"Freakin' jerk!" Why did Dean insist on messing with him when he was embarrassed and starving!

"Bitch."

* * *

Dean had dropped Sam off at home after school, not willing to waste a minute of his weekend he sped off to the movie theater. Sam came in to the small apartment to find John packing up.

"Hey kiddo, where's your brother going?" John asked.

Sam shrugged. "To the movies I think."

"Then I guess it's just you and me tonight, unless you have plans too?"

"No sir, not tonight, I was just gonna pack."

"Okay Son, I'll call you for dinner."

John ordered out for dinner, he got Sam a chicken salad and himself a burger and fries; Sam was pleased beyond belief for something more substantial then lettuce. "Don't eat it all Sammy there's a lot of calories in there and make sure when you go out with your friends to order something small. I'm serious Sam, I know it's hard to just get a salad when your friends are eating big dinners, but this is important, the last thing we need is for you to get any bigger."

"I know Dad."

* * *

Thank you everyone for reading!

I promise in the next chapter things well get juicy!!


	4. Chapter 4

Thin Line

Chapter 4

Summary: John is walking a thin line. His obsession with hunting will jeopardize one son physically and both sons emotionally. Limp Sam to come.

Warning: **Touchy subject! **

Note: Sorry I forget to mention it earlier, but Dean is 18 and Sam is 14.

Thank you for reading! I really appreciate all your reviews and PMs, you are awesome!!

I think I replied to all of them, but if I missed someone, I'm sorry and thanks!

Enjoy...

* * *

Not only was Sam so hungry that he could barely function, but now he had to humiliate himself publicly in the form of ice skating... thanks Dad.

"Hurry up!" Adam called he was sitting on the bench next to Sam waiting for him to get his skates on, Lola, Brett, and Cameron were already out on the ice and Ashley was standing beside Adam, pulling on her gloves and making sure her scarf was on right.

"I really think you guys should just go on without me," Sam suggested, not for the first time that night. "I think I need to take these skates back and get a different size."

"You've taken you're skates back like a million times already, those are the right size." Adam said.

"It's really not that hard Sam." Ashley assured him. "Brett's only gone like twice and look at him..." Sam looked up just in time to see Brett fall on his rear and Lola stood by laughing as he pulled himself up.

Sam sighed it couldn't be that bad. "Fine."

Sam, Adam, and Ashley made their way over to the entrance of the rink Lola came to meet them, while Cameron did his best to drag Brett out of the way of on coming skaters. Ashley and Adam glided on to the ice, Adam was less then graceful and was hanging on to Ashley so he wouldn't fall, Sam stood reluctantly at the entrance, trying to figure out how to get on without dying.

"Come on Sam, if Adam can do it anyone can." Lola said.

"Yeah, well what about Brett?" Sam asked wincing in sympathy was Brett fall again.

Lola shook her head sadly and replied sarcastically. "He's a rare exception. Brett is one of the most talented athletes that you will ever meet, but the poor kid couldn't ice skate his way out of a paper bag... it's pathetic really."

"I guess I can try." Sam clung to the wall and slowly stepped on to the ice.

"Oh come on! You can't hang on to the wall, it's way easier once you get going, here just hang on to me and glide." Lola instructed.

He held on to her arm, she was right, the faster he went the easier it got. Dean would love this, watching Sam cling to Lola, Sam would definitely leave this part out when he told Dean about his evening.

After only three laps Lola went to the exit. "Well I'm done." She announced. "I want some hot chocolate."

"That's it?" Sam whined. "I was just starting to get it."

"Well you can go again once we get some hot chocolate, I'm buying as a celebratory drink."

"What are we celebrating?"

"That you aren't nearly as bad at ice skating as Brett." Lola said shooting an amused look at Brett who was using the wall to maneuver towards the exit, small children were passing him by and laughing.

Sam laughed. "That is worth celebrating."

"I sure think so." She replied. "Do you want marshmallows in yours?"

Sam hated to ask, but he knew he had to. "Hey, how many calories do you think are in hot chocolate." He asked as they sat on a bench.

"Why do you care?"

Sam shrugged. "Jus' wondering."

"O-kay...um, I wouldn't know, I'm not a calorie-counter, but you might ask Ashley, she's always dieting."

Sam felt so stupid for asking and he wanted to tell her why he had asked, but he couldn't. "I don't want any marshmallows, thanks." He said lamely.

"Okay I'll be right back." She came back a few minutes later with two cups of hot chocolate and her purse, she handed Sam one of the cups and set the other on the bench before sitting down. She pulled her purse into her lap and pulled out a bag full of gummy bears. "Want some?"

Of course Sam wanted some, every time Sam felt like he was starting to fall for Lola she pulled out a damn bag of gummy bears and made him resentful, he was starting to think she was doing it on purpose. "No thanks."

"What's up with you?—I thought you loved gummy bears."

"I do, I just...wanna save room for dinner." Sam replied.

She shrugged. "Whatever."

Soon everyone else came out of the rink. "What are you two doing, you barely skated at all!" Cameron said.

"I'm too hungry to skate." Lola whined. Sam shook his head, that girl did not even know hungry.

"Well, I'm done too." Brett said collapsing on the bench beside Sam.

"Thank god." Ashley said. "It was painful just watching you."

"Shut up Ashley." Cameron reprimanded jokingly, then turned to Brett. "I though you did so much better then last time...remember? You almost took out that whole family."

"I'm **so** hungry!" Lola cried dramatically. "Can we _please_ go eat?"

The kids walked to a little Italian restaurant near by, it smelt so good inside that Sam's mouth was watering. After they were seated the waitress brought them some beard and took there drink orders, Sam watched his friends devour it and was thankful that they'd eaten it all quickly so he wouldn't have to look at it.

Sam flipped to the 'soup and salad' page in the menu, chicken caesar salad seemed like something he could have. All of his friends were getting large pasta dishes, with the exception of Ashley, how was also getting the chicken caesar salad, after proclaiming that she had just started another diet.

"Is that all your getting Sam?" Brett asked after they received their food.

Sam nodded. "I'm not very hungry."

The waitress had brought some extra plates and Lola quickly grabbed one and put some of her Chicken Alfredo on it and handed it to Sam. "Try it, it's really good."

Brett also put some of his pasta on the plate and Adam and Cameron did the same. "I'm really not that hungry." Sam said unconvincingly as he was practically drooling over the food.

"It's not very much." Cameron said.

"Yeah, and it's really good." Adam added.

It didn't take much more then that for Sam to justify it in his mind. "Well, I guess I could eat a little." He said and everyone nodded encouragingly.

He ate everything on the plate like a ravenous raccoon, then started munching on his salad, but once he looked at the empty plate and realized what he'd done he felt very guilty.

* * *

Sam slowly opened the door to the apartment, there wasn't much left inside, because John had started moving their stuff out that day and they were going to finish tomorrow. He felt sick with guilt and disappointment, he'd let his father and brother down and he just wanted to go to his and Dean's room and cry.

"Sam? Is that you?" John called from the kitchen.

"Yes Sir."

"Come in here." John said. Sam drug his feet as much as possible, he felt like he was walking to his doom. John was closing the refrigerator and had a beer in his hand, he looked like he was in a good mood, but he wouldn't be for long. "How was your night?"

"Ice skating was fun." Sam replied.

"Yeah? You didn't fell too much?" John asked.

"No Sir."

"Where did you go for dinner?"

Sam looked down at his feet. "Just some little Italian place."

"What'd you order?" John asked.

Sam could feel his father getting suspicious. "Chicken Caesar salad and a diet coke."

"Sam is there something you want to tell me?"

Sam was quiet for a while before blurting out. "I had some pasta, lots of pasta and some hot chocolate—I'm sorry I didn't even realize how much I ate until it was gone. I'm really sorry Dad."

John was silent for a moment then responded heatedly "Not only have you let Dean and I down, but if you can't pull yourself together and lose at least twenty pounds innocent people are going to die. I only asked this one thing of you, and you can't do it. You told me I could count on you—"

"You can, I promise, it won't happen again..." Sam pleaded desperately.

"I need you to get your head in this Sam, I'm trusting you not to screw this up. You need to stay focused." John said. "I can't have Dean worrying too much about you either, I really need him for this hunt, I don't want him to be so worried about you that he can't help me get the job done."

"Yes Sir." Sam said softly he turned to go to the room he shared with Dean, but first he looked back over his shoulder at John. "I'm sorry."

* * *

Sam throw himself on to his bed, grabbed his pillow and buried his face in it to mute his sobbing. It had been less then a week since he had been given his first real responsibility in a hunt and he had already let everyone down.

Sam felt like he'd been punched in the stomach, after hearing his father's words; it seemed like no matter what he did, John would always need Dean more. Dean was always the MVP on team Winchester and there was nothing Sam could do about it. Sam couldn't bring himself to be resentful of Dean, he was the best older brother ever, but Sam wanted John to look at him just once the way he looked at Dean—he wanted to make John proud of him.

Sam did his best to pull himself together, he went into the bathroom and washed his face hoping to erase any evidence of his tears. Tears weren't going to help him make his father and brother proud, losing twenty pounds was.

He looked at himself in the mirror above the sink, god he hated his face...

Sam turned to look in the floor length mirror that hung on the back of the bathroom door he examined his body carefully, he pulled his hoodie and shirt off and then slipped out of his pants so he stood there clad in only boxers.

Holy crap!

When had he gotten so fat?

* * *

Thanks for reading friends.

I'm always open to suggestions.


	5. Chapter 5

Thin Line

Chapter 5

Summary: John is walking a thin line. His obsession with hunting will jeopardize one son physically and both sons emotionally. Limp Sam to come.

Warning: **Touchy subject! **

Note: Sorry I forget to mention it earlier, but Dean is 18 and Sam is 14.

Thank you for reading! I really appreciate all your reviews and PMs, you are awesome!!

I think I replied to all of them, but if I missed someone, I'm very sorry and thank you!

Enjoy...

* * *

Sam had been standing in front of the mirror for a long time and he was getting more disgusted with himself in every passing second. Everything about him was wrong.

_No wonder your dad picked you for this job. _An inner voice he had never noticed before rang in his head. _You really should cut back on the calories._

He ate the same things that Dean did, but Dean had a great body, then again, Dean worked out more and Dean was taller then him so it stood to reason that he should eat more.

He didn't know when he had let himself go. Dean always told him he was too skinny, but maybe Dean was just trying to be nice—or even worse..._Dean wasn't trying to be nice, he was teasing you Stupid. He's been making fun of you for being fat all along and you didn't even realize. _

He should have known, Dean was always teasing him about something.

He didn't know how long he had been looking in the mirror, but the next thing he knew there was banging on the door. "Holy crap Sam, you've been in there forever!" Dean yelled through the door.

"Hold on." Sam called softly he wondered how long Dean had been standing there.

"Hold on!? I've been holding on since I got home, I chugged freakin' half a keg and I have to freakin' piss!"

Sam quickly got his clothes back on and opened the door to find Dean about to blow; Dean pushed past him and slammed the door behind him. "Sorry Dean. How long have you been home?" Sam asked when he came back out.

"Like twenty minutes, Dude, what the hell were you doing in there?"

"Nothin'." Sam mumbled self-consciously.

"Yeah right! I guess that means you didn't get any tonight."

"Dean! Ew that is not what I was doing. You're disgusting!"

Dean shrugged. "I'm just saying you were in there for awhile..."

"Shut up, you freakin' pervert!"

Dean and Sam both laid back on their respective beds. "So how was your night?" Dean asked.

"Great." Sam lied, well actually, it was great until he got home, but he quickly changed the subject so Dean wouldn't ask for details. "Did you say you chugged half a keg? You seem awfully sober..."

"Well...I may have over exaggerated a _little_ bit, this stupid kid told me he could drink more beers then me in two minutes, it seemed like half o' keg," Dean replied. "But I did have to piss like a race horse and you were taking forever."

"So you went to a party then and I take it you beat that kid?"

"Yeah, he didn't stand a chance; it was awesome—until the cops came anyway, but there were some hot girls, hot, drunk girls."

"Neat," Sam said dryly. "I hope you didn't take advantage of any of those poor wasted girls."

"No, I didn't have to, they were so drunk they just started taking of their shirts and dancing on the table. You should have seen them running down the street, in their bras when the cops showed up, priceless!"

"Sounds like a blast." Sam muttered sarcastically. It probably had been fun for Dean; girls were always throwing themselves at him.

_What girl would want to throw herself at you?_ All Sam could think about was his reflection...he was so fat and ugly and he—.

"What's your problem tonight? You finally got to spend a day with your friends outside of school. Didn't you have fun?" Dean asked.

"Nothing's wrong." Sam protested. "I had lots of fun with my friends."

"That didn't sound very convincing Sammy." Dean teased. "What did you and your friends do?"

"We just went ice skating and—" Sam started but was cut off by his brother.

"Did Lola help you?"

"A little." Sam blushed.

_Just forget it Sam she could never like a fat whale like you._

"Awww, my baby brother's growing up! He has his very first girlfriend."

"Dean, seriously, she's not my girlfriend!"

"Why not? Does she already have a boyfriend? Is that why you're so upset?"

"No...I don't know, just drop it Dean!"

"Fine, what did you do after you went ice skating?"

"We just went out to dinner and then I came home. That's about it."

"Okay Sammy, if you say so."

"I say so. So what'd you do all day?"

Dean sighed and replied in a bored tone. "Mike, Joe, Brian, Ross and I saw a really crappy movie, then we went to Brain's house and ordered some pizza, I made out with his sister, which was about was about as satisfying as kissing a closed fist, only it was way messier." Dean shuddered at the memory that was by far his most disgusting make-out session ever...well it at least made the top ten list for his worst kiss ever. "Then we went to that party with the hot drunk chicks and now I'm home."

"Sound exhilarating." Sam said in an equally bored and slightly distracted tone.

"Yup, but it was better then conditioning."

"Amen brother."

_You need some conditioning, Sammy._

Dean jumped up from his bed with renewed energy and then went to Sam's bed and pulled him up also. "I'm feeling generous tonight Sam, so ya know what I'm gonna do?"

"What?"

"Are you done packing?"

"Yeah, mostly. Why? What are you gonna do?"

"I'm going to let you help me pack."

Sam sighed. "Fantastic."

"Yup I know, what an awesome big brother you have."

"That's just what I was thinking."

* * *

The Winchester's were unloading all their stuff into the small house. "Not bad Dad." Dean said as he looked around.

"Your rooms are that way." John said pointing down a hall that went off the living room.

"Rooms? As in more then one?" Dean asked eagerly. "As in I don't have to share a room with the scrawny emo child?"

_He's making fun of you again._

"Yup, you boys have your own rooms, don't get use to it."

Dean hurried back to pick out which room he wanted and Sam followed slowly after him, Dean was examining both rooms up and down, they were going to be there for five months after all. He finally decided on the slightly larger room, that was painted a very 'fugly' shade of orange, in the hope that John would let him repaint it, and Sam got the smaller room, that was painted light blue.

Sam could count the number of times he and Dean had had there own rooms on one hand.

_Poor Dean, he has to share a room with you all the time, you can't blame him for wanting his own room, now he doesn't have to look at you all the time...hell, you don't even want to share a room with yourself. _

Sam set his stuff down in his new room and looked around, the bed was already there and so was a small dresser, it had a large window and curtains. The only thing Sam really hated about the room was that the closet doors were sliding mirrors, great, just what he needed. He really did not want to have to look at himself anymore.

"Hey Sammy." Dean called from his room. "Isn't this awesome? I don't have to look at your fugly face all the time."

"Lucky you." Sam muttered as he glared at his reflection.

Dean appeared in the doorway of Sam room. "What's the matter? Are you gonna miss my stunningly handsome face and manly body, being the last thing you see before you go to sleep and the first thing to greet you in the morning?"

"Oh please."

"There are millions of chicks who would give just about anything to share a room with me; you don't know how lucky you are."

Sam couldn't help but wonder why it was that Dean was handsome and fit and he was ugly and fat. _He is your brother after all; shouldn't_ _you_ _at least look a little bit alike? Actually, he's probably thankful he doesn't look like you. _

_Look at your clothes Sam, they are way too small._ Sam suddenly became distracted with how tight his shirt was, it show all of his fat! He started tugging at it, hoping to stretch it out.

Dean watched, quite puzzled as his brother pull at his shirt, Dean was still waiting for Sam to spout out a snippy comeback, but he seemed to forget Dean was even in the room. "Sammy, what are you doing?"

Sam nearly jumped out of his skin, he let go of his shirt, looking slightly embarrassed. "Nothin'" He replied.

"Uh-huh, is there something wrong with your shirt Kid?"

"It just feels kinda tight."

"Well it looks fine to me." Dean shrugged.

Sam gave Dean the 'yeah right' look. _Like Dean would understand._ "I'm gonna go take a shower." Sam pushed pasted his brother, leaving Dean with a confused look on his face.

* * *

Thanks for reading friends.

Today is the anniversary of Robbie's death ( February 25, 2006) so I wanted to be sure to post a chapter today, after all this story is for him.


	6. Chapter 6

Thin Line

Chapter 6

Summary: John is walking a thin line. His obsession with hunting will jeopardize one son physically and both sons emotionally. Limp Sam to come.

Warning: **Touchy subject! **

Note: Sorry I forget to mention it earlier, but Dean is 18 and Sam is 14.

Thank you for reading! I really appreciate all your reviews and PMs, you are awesome!!

I think I replied to all of them, but if I missed someone, I'm sorry and thanks!

**By the way, Sam has asthma in all my stories and he does in this story too, it'll be kind of important later.**

Enjoy...

* * *

"Where is your brother?" John demanded.

Sam shrugged. "Probably out with his friends, didn't he leave a note?"

"Why would I be asking if he—" John started, but stuck to the refrigerator was a piece of paper that read, 'Out with friends' in Dean's handwriting, John cleared his throat. "Oh."

Dean was hanging out with his friends and going to parties a lot lately. Sam's inner voice told him, who_ would want to spend time at with their chunky, dorky little brother if they didn't have to? _

"What are your friends doing?" John asked.

"I dunno." Sam said, he was so distracted; all he could think about was losing weight. _Twenty pounds Sam. _"Dad, can you weigh me again?"

"Sam I just weighed you this morning."

"I know, but I just wanna see."

"Okay Son." John pulled out the scale and set it on floor Sam stepped on. "127." John said. "That's not so bad considering all the pasta you eat the other day."

Just thinking about all that pasta made Sam sick; he could not believe he ate all that. _Two pounds! That's it? You have been starving yourself for a week and you've only lost two pounds, pathetic! _

"Dad is it okay if I go for a run?"

John looked surprised. "Go ahead."

* * *

Sam ran until he thought that he was going to die, he sat down on a curb outside of a little drug store, panting heavily. He berated himself for forgetting his inhaler, he was pretty sure that he would be okay without it, but he'd have to be careful on his way home.

"Sammy?" A familiar voice called him from behind. Sam spun around, to see Dean coming out of the drug story with a suspicious looking paper bag in his hand and a few of his friends by his side.

"Hey...Dean." Sam said he was still breathless.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine, what are you doing here?"

Dean get on a look on his face that clearly said he was doing something John wouldn't approve of, he hide the bag behind his back. "We just stopped by to get some candy." Dean said. "And if you tell Dad anything different you'll regret it."

"Like I would tell Dad that you're using that fake ID he gave you to buy you and your underage friends hard liquor."

Dean glared. "You better not, we're eighteen it's close enough."

"I said I wouldn't tell, settle down."

"Good." Dean relaxed. "What are you doing here?"

"I was just taking a run."

"Why?"

Sam shrugged. "Just felt like runnin'."

"You hate to run." Dean said. His eyes narrowed, when he detected a slight wheeze in Sam's breathing. "I bet you forgot your inhaler, huh?"

"Yeah." Sam replied softly. He prepared himself for volcano Dean to erupt.

"Damn it Sam! What if you had an attack?" Dean always worried about Sam having an attack even though Sam's asthma had improved vastly from when he was a small child.

"I'm sorry Dean, I wasn't thinking."

"Obviously...come on, I'll drive you home."

"No, really it's okay Dean, I'll be fine. I'll be really careful, I promise."

"I said I'll drive you home." Dean growled.

Sam nodded and got into Dean's car. _Great job Sam now Dean's pissed at you, as if he didn't resent you enough already._

"Just meet us at Mike's house when you're done." Dean's friend, Brain said Dean acknowledged him with a nod.

Dean got in the car, opened the glove compartment, and pulled out an extra inhaler that he kept there. He tossed it into Sam's lap without saying a word.

"I'm okay—"

"I heard you wheezing a bit, take a hit." Dean said shortly and Sam complied.

Dean pulled up to the house and waited for Sam to get out. "Thanks Dean, have fun with your friends."

"Yeah, just remember—"

"Not to tell Dad, I know." Sam said shutting the door and making his way to the house.

_Dean's mad at you now, but once you're skinnier, he'll like you again._

_

* * *

_

John set a large salad in front of Sam; he had ordered a pizza for himself and Dean. "Did Dean say whether he'd home for dinner or not?"

_He would rather have Dean here then you._

"No Sir." Sam said picking through the lettuce, tomatoes, and carrots, and then took a bite out of a cucumber. The smell of the greasy pizza was making him fell sick.

John set a bottle of ranch in front of Sam. "Don't use too much." He warned sternly.

Sam glanced at the ranch. _140 calories in two tablespoons hell no! Put it down, you're getting bigger just looking at it. _He quickly pushed it away. "I don't want any, thanks."

John's eyebrows rose, Sam certainly was full of surprises today, maybe that peep talk had help him focus. "Okay, well I got you some of those 100 calorie packs, like chips and cookies and stuff that you can take to school and there's some jell-o in the frig."

"Thanks." Sam said while munched on a piece of lettuce.

Dean stumbled in seconds later, which Sam was thankful for, even if Dean was mad at him, because when Dean wasn't around all John and Sam could do was make awkward small talk or fight and bicker.

"Hi." Dean said with a deep sigh.

"I ordered some pizza." John said handing Dean a paper plate with a large slice of pizza on it.

"Okay."

"Did you have a good day?"

"It was okay."

"Did you do anything special?"

"Just hung out." Dean shrugged with a distracted air, slipping into one of the chairs at the table.

John and Sam eyed Dean skeptically; he was usually more talkative then that, he should be cracking bad jokes by now.

"Are you feeling okay?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, I'm great." Dean replied he didn't look up; he just stared at his pizza for the longest time, and then finally took a bite.

John and Sam shared a look of concern then shrugged and looked back at Dean who ate his pizza, but he lacked his usual enthusiasm for food. He seemed to be in some sort of daze.

"Are you drunk?" John asked.

Dean's head shot up and he dropped his pizza to his plate. "What? No!" Dean protested.

"Why would you think that?" He glared at Sam who looked back that him with big innocent 'what did I do?' eyes.

"Because you're acting strange." John said he did sound slightly concerned.

"I'm just tired I guess, but I'm not freakin' drunk." Dean said he grabbed his plate and additional piece of pizza from the box before standing up. "I'm gonna go eat in my room, I have homework to do."

_The real problem is that he probably can't stand to be in the same room as you any more, he's disgusted just looking at you. Look at yourself, you're a pig! You just ate that whole salad in less then three minutes. _

Sam looked down at his plate; he hadn't even realized he had eaten it all.

_Pay attention Sammy, get your head in it, remember all that pasta you ate the last time you lost focus! You need to pay attention to every single bite, every single thing that goes in to your mouth._

When John heard Dean's door slam, he looked to Sam. "There is definitely something wrong with Dean. Do you have any idea what's brothering him?"

_You know exactly what the problem is, he can't stand you._

"Maybe he really is just tired." Sam suggested.

There was no point in telling John that Dean hated him or that he had forgotten his inhaler at home when he had gone for his run and that Dean was angry with him for it. He didn't need John to be upset with him too.

"Sam, your older brother just said that he had homework to do...there is definitely something wrong."

* * *

Thanks for reading!

And thank you for those who took the time to review it is always appreciated.

The next couple of chapters are going to have a bit of Dean drama, but don't worry I won't forget about Sam (like I could)—there will be plenty of Sam drama too!


	7. Chapter 7

Thin Line

Chapter 7

Summary: John is walking a thin line. His obsession with hunting will jeopardize one son physically and both sons emotionally. Limp Sam to come.

Warning: **Touchy subject! **

Note: Thank you for reading! I really appreciate all your reviews and PMs, you are awesome!! I think I replied to all of them, but if I missed someone, I'm sorry and thanks!

Someone mentioned that the last chapter was a bit short...this one is about the same length so I apologize, but the next chapter will be a little longer.

Enjoy...

* * *

It was here once again, it came every seven days without fail, no matter how many people begged and pleaded for it to stop...Monday.

School was different for Sam this week though, he couldn't concentrate in class, not because he was hungry, but because his was trying to calculate his daily caloric intake.

He bought his Health book to all his classes and was typing furiously on his calculator; his book for Health class contained all the equations he needed to know. Like how many calories it would take for him to maintain his current weight and how many calories he would need to eat to lose twenty pounds in just a few months.

He needed to cut out 500 calories per day just to lose a pound a week.

_You need to lose more then one pound a week Sam, look at yourself...no one would ever believe that you have an eating disorder._

"Sam?" Mrs. McGee, his math teacher called in an irritated voice, it was clear she had been calling his name for some time.

"Yes ma'am?" Sam asked the other kids in his class were laughing; he was in advanced classes so the kids were all older than he was and that made it even more embarrassing.

"Can you do graph equation number twenty-four on the board, please?"

"Uh...I could try..." Sam grabbed his book and went to the board; however, he had not been following along. "Um, c-could you tell me what page we're on?" Sam asked timidly.

The class laughed even harder at that. "Page 563." Replied Mrs. McGee.

Sam flipped to the page, crap; he didn't know how to do graph those equations. "I...I don't know how to do it."

"That's what I thought, please take your seat and pay attention this time and don't do your homework for other classes in my class."

"Yes ma'am, sorry." Sam said going back to his seat.

The boy sitting behind him, a junior named Travis Bennett, patted his back. "Real smooth Winchester." Travis teased.

_Great job Sam, as if you weren't enough of a loser already._

When lunchtime rolled around that day, he wasn't excited like he had been the week before. He dreaded it.

Sam left himself growing apart from his friends, he still sat with them at lunch, talked, and laughed with them, but he wasn't interested in the same things anymore. He could only think about how many calories he was taking in.

_Slow down! Your friends already think you're a pig. _Was all Sam could hear when he was eating his salad.

He had actually brought his Health book to the table with him, in the back it had the nutrition facts for fruits and vegetables, and he was mentally calculating all the calories that he was putting into his mouth.

Sam didn't realize right away, but Dean didn't bring him an apple and demand that Sam eat it, like he usually did. Sam was grateful, because eating an apple was an extra 80 calories that he didn't need, but it was still puzzling.

In fact, as Sam looked around the cafeteria he didn't even see Dean anywhere, he wasn't at his usual table with his friends, and John would be pissed if Dean was skipping school.

Sam turned his attention back to his friends. Ashley was go on and on about her new diet. "In the morning all I eat is scrambled egg whites and for dinner I just have boiled chicken—"

"Ew! Why?" Lola demanded. "I did rather die fat and happy, because I indulged in a few donuts than have to eat tasteless food."

_I bet she wouldn't feel that way anymore if she saw what you looked like without your clothes on..._

"My mom takes diet pills so she can eat whatever she wants." Adam said.

Sam head shot up, he tried not to sound too eager when he asked. "Do they work?"

Adam shrugged. "I guess so, she keeps taking them."

_Hmm diet pills? That might help you lose weight faster. _

"You have to be eighteen to buy them though don't you?" Cameron asked.

_I bet you could talk Dad into buying some for you..._

_

* * *

_

"Hey Dad?" Sam called when he and Dean got home; Dean had once again hurried off to his room, saying he had homework to do.

"Huh?" John asked he was obviously distracted with his worry for Dean.

"I heard someone mention something about diet pills at school and I thought it might be a good idea if I started taking some, maybe they'd help me."

"That's a great idea Sam! I don't know why I didn't think of that; make sure you have them at school and taking them in front of your friends—or better yet a teacher! I'm sure it's against the rules to have stuff like that at school, and if they catch you, they'll make you tell them what they are."

"Yeah." Most of what John said had gone through one ear and out the other, but it was clear to Sam that John was going to get him the pills.

"I'm so glad that your taking this more seriously, I'm proud of you for stepping up to the plate."

Sam's heart soared, his father was proud of him.

_He'll be even more proud once you drop twenty pounds. If he's proud now, just think of how proud he'll be when he doesn't have a son who could be mistaken for a beached whale._

"There is something we still need to work on though." John said.

"What?" Sam asked.

"We need to figure out is going on with your brother..."

_You already know what's wrong with Dean—he hates you!_

_

* * *

_

Everyday that week, Sam had the same thing for lunch a salad, with lettuce, tomato, celery, carrots and cucumber. It didn't taste like anything, but Sam didn't care, he didn't see food as food anymore, he no longer found joy in eating, food was just calories.

Everyday that week he would eliminate one thing from his salad, so at the end of the week he would only be eating a bowlful of lettuce.

He had a set eating plan now: He took a diet pill with every meal; they made him feel wired and slightly nauseous at times. For breakfast, he always had some sort of fruit, usually an apple. For lunch, he ate his bowl of lettuce. In between lunch and dinner, he _might_ have a jell-o cup or half of a 100 Calorie Pack, and for dinner, he had some more lettuce.

He ran twice a day, once before he left for school and once when he got home, and adding that to whatever he did in P.E. made for quite a daily workout.

Dean had barely said a word to him all week, Dean wasn't acting like himself at all, he was wondering around in a fog. When he did come home, which was rare, he went straight to his room and locked the door.

John was worried and so was Sam. And to complicate the situation even more, on Wednesday John announced that he was going out of town to help Caleb with a hunt.

He said that he would be gone before the boys got home from school on Thursday and would be back sometime on Sunday.

* * *

When the boys got home Thursday John was gone on, just as he had said and that night Sam decided that is was time to confront Dean.

Sam knocked softly on Dean's door. "Come in." Dean called listlessly.

Sam entered the room to find Dean lying on his bed with his arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling.

"Dean?"

"What'd you want?" Dean asked in the same tune, he didn't even bother to glance at his brother.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Dean replied unconvincingly.

"Dean?" Sam asked in a sheepish voice.

"What?" Dean asked sharply, he was getting annoyed.

"Are...are you mad at me?"

"No, why? Should I be?" He didn't sit up, but his eyes moved to Sam's face.

"Are you sure?"

"Why do you think I'd be mad at you?"

"I thought you were mad at me, cuz I told Dad that you bought that alcohol for your friends with your fake ID."

"You told him that?" Dean asked he didn't seem upset or even interested really.

"No, but I thought that _you_ thought I did."

"What?"

"Never mind... So you're not mad at me?"

"Nope."

"Then why are you acting so weird lately?"

"Am I?"

"Yeah! Dad and I are really worried. Are you sure you're not sick?"

"Yup."

"I just wanted to make sure you weren't sick or anything, but if you're sure your okay..." Sam turned to leave.

"Wait!" Dean called sitting up on his bed. "Can I tell you something?"

* * *

Thank you for reading! Some limp Sam next chapter.


	8. Chapter 8

Thin Line

Chapter 8

Summary: John is walking a thin line. His obsession with hunting will jeopardize one son physically and both sons emotionally. Limp Sam.

**Warning: Touchy subject! **

Note: Thank you for reading! I really appreciate all your reviews and PMs, you are awesome!! I think I replied to all of them, but if I missed someone, I'm sorry and thanks!

**AN:** The next update might take a while...it really depends on whether I can talk anyone into going to Disneyland (aka the most magical place on earth) with me.

I'm thinking about posting a new story, but I want to get a few more chapters done first, since I finally finished one of my stories I guess it would be okay.

Enjoy...

* * *

"**I just wanted to make sure you weren't sick or anything, but if you're sure your okay..." Sam turned to leave.**

"**Wait!" Dean called sitting up on his bed. "Can I tell you something?"**

Sam spun around to face Dean, but swayed violently.

"Sammy!" Dean hurried over to him and grabbed on to his shoulders to steady him. "Here come sit down." Dean led Sam to the bed and sat him down. Sam squeezed his eyes shut in the hope of making the room stop spinning, but it was futile. "Are you okay Kiddo? What was that all about?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Sam said he wouldn't tell Dean, but he had been having these dizzy spells since Monday. "I just...I probably just need some water."

"Or maybe some food, huh? What have you had to eat today?"

"I, uh, I had plenty to eat." Sam lied so far he had eaten an apple and about two cups of lettuce.

_You've had more then enough to eat._

"Really, I probably just haven't had enough water."

Dean looked unconvinced. "Lay down for awhile, you look like your about to collapse." Dean said taking in Sam's pale face, Sam was getting so thin Dean hated this. He was upset at himself for being so distracted that he had forgotten about his brother.

When Sam didn't lay down on his own Dean forced him to. "I'll be right back." Dean left the room and came back a few minutes later with a cup of orange juice and a glass of water. "Here." Dean handed Sam the orange juice first.

_You can't drink that Sam, those are just more calories that you don't need._

"That's okay Dean; can I just have some water?"

"I think you need some sugar."

_You do not need sugar._

Sam tried to come up with an excuse and he shouted out the first thing that came to mind. "Dad said I should just drink water."

Dean sighed and set the juice aside. "Fine." He handed Sam the water, which Sam quickly drank. Dean pushed Sam's long bangs aside and laid his hand in Sam's forehead. "You don't have a fever..." Dean muttered to himself.

"Thanks for the water Dean, sorry about that... I feel much better now."

Dean still looked worried. "You should rest for a while."

_No you shouldn't, you'll burn more calories if you move around._

"I'm fine Dean really, I think I should get up, I need to go for a run—" Sam started to get up but Dean pushed him back down.

"No you don't! You need to rest, so either drank the juice or lie down."

Sam sighed and laid back. "Fine." The brothers were silent for a while. "So are you gonna tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"Whatever it was that you were gonna tell me."

"Oh that." Dean eyed Sam skeptically. "I don't know..."

"Aww, come on Dean please? You know you can tell me anything, is something bothering you? Are you in trouble or something? Is that why you're acting so weird? Are you sure you aren't sick?—because if you are we should tell Dad and he could take you to the doctor."

"Settle down Sam." Dean said he sat on the edge of the bed, he was turned towards Sam, but he was looking down at his hands. "I'm not in trouble and I'm not sick."

"Then what's wrong?"

Dean sighed and paused for a moment. "Nothings really wrong, just..." Dean trailed off again.

"Come on Dean, I'm worried about you. You've always said that you trusted me, I promise I won't tell." Sam poked his brother in the arm so that Dean would look at him and then gave Dean his very best pout, complimented that his big puppy dog eyes and the fact that Dean was worried about him made his request undeniable.

Dean rolled his eyes Sam had cracked him like an egg. "You don't need to worry...I just, I--"

"Spit it out Brother!"

"I'm in love." Dean finally blurted out; his face turned a deep shade of red and a turned away from his brother.

Sam blinked; well that wasn't exactly what he expected. "You're—love? Dean are you sure?" Sam asked after a long pause.

"I'm sure, I can't think straight, I can't concentrate...I think about her all the time, she..." Dean had a goofy smile plaster across his face and he was staring dreamily at nothing.

"I thought there was a law in your 'girl rulebook' against falling in love? You've told me at least a million times 'don't get attached'."

"I thought so too."

"Who is she? Do I know her?"

Dean shrugged. "Her name is Betty May—isn't that a pretty name?

"Yeah, I guess."

"But everyone just calls her Betty. She's...so awesome..."

"Have you slept with her?"

"No."

Sam looked surprise. "Have you asked her on a date?"

"Nope."

"Well why not?"

"She hates me." Dean said with a fond smile.

"She...hates you?"

"Yup."

"How do you know?"

"She called me a man-whore and then she told me that I better not have given any of her friends STDs."

"Ouch!" Sam laughed. "Why do you like her again?"

"I don't...I love her."

"Right, sorry. Why do you _love_ her?"

"She I don't know she's so...sassy."

Sam burst out laughing so hard that he thought that his lungs were going to explode. He rolled off the bed on to the floor and tried to catch his breath.

"What's so funny?"

"You just said she was 'sassy'!" Sam said wiping the laughter induced tears from his face.

"So what? She is and funny, she so funny and smart and pretty and nice..."

"And sassy." Sam snickered.

"Yeah and sassy."

"Is that the only thing she's ever said to you?—that you were a man whore?" Sam asked.

"No. One time she said 'excuse me', because I was standing in front of her locker...she's so polite. And one time she asked if I wanted a piece of gum and one time when I forget my English book she asked if I wanted to look at hers..."

"She sounds nice, except for that whole thing about you being a man-whore."

"Yeah, she wasn't so nice to me after she found out that I'd hooked up with most of her friends, but you know the coolest thing she ever said to me?"

Sam was getting slightly bored with his brother's lovesickness. "What?"

"She said that my car was awesome."

"Did she know what it was?"

"Yup, make and model."

"Well, that's why you're in love with her, Stupid."

"No, Sammy that's not it, you just didn't understand...I get really nervous when a try to talk to her, I stutter and I can't make words come out right. She probably thinks I'm an idiot. This has never happened to me before, I've never been nervous around girls and I've never felt like this before..."

"Why don't you ask her out?"

"She thinks all I want is casually sex."

"Well, last week that was true."

"I know." Dean smiled. "She asked me today at school how much Child Support I had to pay a year."

Sam laughed. "I think I'm in love with her too."

"Keep your paws off, or else I'm telling Lola."

"Thanks for telling me Dean."

"Thanks for listening, Bitch."

"Jerk."

* * *

"Hurry up Sammy!" Dean called banging on Sam's door. "Were gonna be late for school."

"Since when do you care if we're late for school?" Sam called back, he felt really strange today, and he was lightheaded.

"Since when do you _not_ care if we're late for school?" Dean countered. "You're the one who always wants to be on time."

"Well, I've decided that we can be late today. In fact, let's just skip school all together."

"What have you done with my Sammy? My Sammy would never skip school."

_You're not 'his Sammy' anymore; he doesn't even want to call you his brother anymore._

"Fine, I'm up." Sam sighed. He quickly took a shower and went about getting dressed. However, when he started putting on shirts nothing looked right.

_That one is way too small and the last thing you need is horizontal strips..._

There was something wrong with every shirt he owned, and finding a sweatshirt was equally as challenging.

_Maybe one of Dean's sweatshirts would fit; it would be longer so maybe it wouldn't be too tight._

"Dean, do you have a sweatshirt I can barrow? All of mine are dirty."

"Sure, but it's gonna be huge on you."

_Yeah right._

Dean handed Sam a black hoodie, Sam hurried back into his room and pulled the sweatshirt on. He looked at himself in his mirror.

_That's as good as it's going to get, unless you can figure out a way to cover up your face._

"I'll be waiting for you in the car." Dean yelled. "Hurry up."

Sam reached down to grab his backpack, which was sitting on the floor, when he stood back up he nearly fell over from the dizziness. He sat down on his bed for a minute, to wait for the lightheadedness to pass, when he heard Dean honked the horn, he jumped to his feet and trotted out to the car, pretending that nothing had happened.

Today was going to suck.

Dean couldn't help but laugh when Sam came out in his sweatshirt. It went passed Sam's hands and nearly to his knees.

"What's so funny?" Sam asked.

_You are._

"Nothin'." Dean said.

"Why are you in such a hurry to get to school?"

"Cuz." Dean replied childishly. "What's up with you anyway? You love school."

Sam shrugged. "I guess."

"Is there something wrong at school? Is someone making fun of you or something?"

"No one's making fun of me Dean."

_Not to your face at least._

Dean looked unconvinced. "Are you sure, because if someone's harassing you all you have to do is say the word and I'll kick their ass."

"I'm sure." Sam said. "Hey, I know why you wanna go to school so bad..."

"Oh yeah, why?"

"Cuz, you wanna see Betty." Sam declared. "Will you show me who she is?"

"If you really want me to."

"Of course I do. I want to see the girl who can get my brother to go to school ten minutes early."

* * *

­­ 

"Come on Dean I wanna to see what she looks like." Sam begged as he and Dean made their way through the school.

"Then hurry up, she hangs out with her friends in the gym until the bell rings." Dean explained he was walking so fast that Sam had to jog to keep up with his long stride.

"Stalker much?"

"Shut up." Dean stopped abruptly when they stepped inside the gym.

"Jeez! Warn a guy would ya?" Sam narrowly avoided slamming into Dean's back.

Dean didn't pay Sam any mind; he was keeping himself hidden, behind the retractable bleachers in the gym. His eyes were fixed on a group of girls who were sitting on the top row of the bleachers, talking and giggling.

"That's her."

* * *

Thanks for reading! I really appreciate those of you who take the time to review!

More limp Sam on the way.

By the way, Dean's love interest is named after my St. Bernard, Betty May, but we just call her Betty. Ha!

**I'm generally against girls interfering with Sam and Dean, but she was necessary—I need her to keep Dean's attention diverted from Sam (she is but a pawn)...so I'll do my best to make her appearances as minimal and amusing as possible. :)**


	9. Chapter 9

Thin Line

Chapter 9

Summary: John is walking a thin line. His obsession with hunting will jeopardize one son physically and both sons emotionally. Limp Sam to come.

Warning: **Touchy subject! **

Note: Thank you for reading! I really appreciate all your reviews and PMs, you are awesome!! I think I replied to all of them, but if I missed someone, I'm sorry and thanks!

Enjoy...

* * *

Sam was trying to see which girl Dean was referring to. "Dean there's like ten girls up there, which one are you talking about?"

"Shhh!" Dean hissed. "Stay down."

_He doesn't want them to see you._

"They're not even paying attention Dean, they're not gonna see us. Now, tell me which one she is."

Quite frankly none of the girls looked like Dean's type, they were pretty, some more so then others, but they were somewhat...preppy.

"Guess." Dean said.

Sam did not look amused. "You want me to guess?"

Dean nodded eagerly.

"Are you kidding me?" Sam asked. "Um, I don't...none of them really..." He tried to decide which one Dean would find most attractive. "The tall blond?"

"Nuh-uh. Try again."

"Would you just tell me?"

"Nope."

"Tell me!"

The boys were so enthralled with their argument that they didn't notice a girl walk up. "Hey Dean."

Dean's head shot up, he looked like deer in headlights. "H-hi."

"Who's this? Are you harassing this poor kid or are you trying to get him in your bed too?"

Sam's eyebrows rose in surprise, Dean would never let anyone get away with saying something like that.

"Th-this is my...my—This is my...Sammy." Dean said with a lopsided smile.

_Dean's ashamed of you, he doesn't want anyone to find out that your brothers._

"'Your Sammy'?" She asked giving Sam a questioning look. He gave her a shy smile and shrugged while trying to hide behind Dean.

_Don't embarrass him you little freak._

"Sorry, he's my baby b-brother, Sam." Dean stuttered. "Sammy this is B-b-bet—"

She smiled brightly at Sam. "I'm Betty. It's very nice to meet you."

So this was Betty, she was small, just over five feet tall with brown eyes and long brown hair, she was pretty, but nothing special. Dean usually went for flashier, easier girls, but maybe Dean had changed.

In Dean's defense, she didn't look quite as preppy as her friends, she wore a polo shirt with her collar popped, well-worn jeans and some sneakers. She did seem genuinely nice, but she really had it in for Dean. Fortunately, she didn't seem to carry that over to Sam.

"It's nice to meet you too." Sam replied.

_She has enough manners to be nice to the fat kid._

"Dean? I better get to class. I'll see you after school." Sam said. He waited a moment to see if he would get a response from Dean, but Dean just continued to stare at Betty. Sam shook his head in amusement. "Don't drool on her Dean." Sam patted Dean's shoulder and then turned to Betty with an embarrassed wave. "Nice to meet you Betty."

Betty smiled at him. "It was nice to meet you too Sam."

On Sam's way to the door the dizziness hit him again, he grabbed on to the side of the bleachers for support, his legs felt like jell-o.

"Sam!" He heard Betty soft voice call in concern.

Apparently, that was enough to break Dean out of his trance. "Sammy!" Dean called. The next thing Sam knew Dean was helping him take a seat on the bleachers. "Sammy? Are you okay Kiddo?"

Both Dean and Betty were knelling in front of Sam, he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get the room to stop spinning. "'m fine." He mumbled.

"Do you want me to help you get him to the nurse Dean?" Betty asked she was stroking Sam's arm gently.

"No," Sam said firmly. "I'm fine, I just need some water."

"I'll go get some." Betty said hurrying off towards a vending machine.

"Sammy, what's up with you?" Dean demanded, Sam didn't reply. "I think you seriously need to eat more."

_Why can't he understand? Food is the enemy!_

"I'm not going to eating more. Get that through your thick head!" Sam snapped.

Dean was taken back by not only the sharpness of Sam's tone, but also the statement it's self. Before he could respond Betty handed him a water bottle, he quickly unscrewed the cap and handed it to Sam.

"Are you gonna take him home Dean? I think you should." Betty said.

"I don't need to go home. I just needed some water, I feel fine now." He was feeling much better now that he was sitting down.

Dean looked so confused and his eyebrows were drawn together with worry, he looked from Betty back to Sam, he didn't know what to do. "Sam..."

_He doesn't even know what to do with you anymore._

"I'm okay Dean." Sam said more gently this time, but when Dean still looked unconvinced, he added. "Really."

Dean looked at Betty; she gave him an encouraging smile. "Alright, but if you start feeling crappy you'll come find me won't you?"

"I will." Sam agreed. He was excited that Dean wasn't going to push the issue of eating, he jumped to his feet and hurried to the door as if nothing had happened. "See ya!"

Dean watched Sam practically run out the door, he was still concerned. Betty patted his arm. "Whatever it was, he seems fine now..." She tried to console him.

He nodded. "I guess so, I just worry about him."

"I know. You're a good brother Dean." She told him.

"Thanks."

Betty gave him a teasing smile. "So, do you have a rough estimation of how many illegitimate children you had scattered around the country from your various sex-capades?" She asked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Dean laughed. "Hell no, I get outta Dodge before those little munchkins start poppin' out."

Betty giggled. "That's just what I expected..."

* * *

"Hey Sam...Sam?" Adam called waving his hand in front of Sam's face.

Sam was deep in thought, but was brought back to reality when Lola nudged his arm with her elbow.

"Huh?" Sam grunted well he was nibbling conservatively on a piece of lettuce. "Sorry we're you talking to me?"

"Yeah, we're going to the movies this weekend we were wondering if you wanted to come." Adam asked.

"Oh yeah sure, I'll go." Sam replied. He sat his fork down and pushed the remainder of his salad away.

Brett looked at the container it was still halfway filled with salad, the lettuce was the only thing that had been touched all the other vegetables had been pushed aside.

"Is that all you're gonna eat?" Brett asked.

Sam nodded. "I'm full."

"That's not very much Sam."

Sam shrugged.

_Why should he care? He doesn't have to loss twenty pounds in just a few months. _

"You don't look so good. Do you feel okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Brett's right Sam, you are kinda pale." Ashley said and the other kids at the table nodded in agreement.

"Maybe you're coming down with something." Lola suggested.

"Yeah, maybe—that's probably it." Sam said.

"Do you feel sick?" Brett asked.

_Tell them that it's none of their business!_

"Not really, I'm just not hungry." Sam explained his clam tone was tinted with annoyance.

"So, I hear P.E. is gonna be brutal today." Adam said in an attempt to break the awkward silence.

"Do we have to run the mile _again_?" Lola asked in a whiney voice, Ashley and Adam groaned.

_Good, now you can run off all those calories._

"Oh come on, it is not that bad. Right, Sam?" Brett asked.

Sam scoffed. "Yeah, a mile is nothin'."

* * *

Dean sat in his Government class, there was a heated debate going on over whether or not the school cafeteria should stop serving unhealthy foods, like pizza and nachos.

Dean didn't feel the need to listen, of course, the cafeteria should continue to sell pizza, this was just stupid.

Dean was busy writing a note to Betty, who sat only a desk away, but the boy sitting in the desk in between them, Edgar, was a notorious tattletale. When he finished the note he looked over at Betty, she lying on her desk with her head resting on her arm and she was doodling.

Dean crumpled the note in a ball, dropped it on the floor, and then kicked it, hoping that the note would make it past Edgar's desk.

Dean let out a sigh of relief when he saw the note come to rest at the side of Betty's shoe. She looked down at the crumpled paper, and then she looked to Dean, and mouthed 'You?'

Dean nodded eagerly and watched was she flattened the note out. He was hoping that she could read his handwriting. It was neater than Sam's was, but that wasn't saying a lot.

She smiled when she read it: 'What are you drawing?'

She tore the paper that she had been scribbling on out of her bender and then made it into a ball, just as Dean had. She waited for the teacher to turn his back to the class before she through it at Dean, hitting him right in the forehead.

"Hey!" He cried aloud.

The teacher spun back around. "Is there something you want to share with the class Mr. Winchester?"

He glared over at Betty who was trying to stifle her laughter and then he turned towards the teacher. "No, Mr. Glass...I just got a paper cut, sorry." Dean said with deliberate sheepishness. He held up his index finger as if to show where the cut was.

"Please try to contain your cries of pain next time Mr. Winchester." Mr. Glass said dryly.

"Yes Sir."

When Mr. Glass turned away from the class, again Dean grabbed the paper Betty had thrown at him. Before he could open the note, the class was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Come in." Mr. Glass called. The door opened and a boy came in, with an air of urgency he went straight to the teacher.

The boy was dressed in a gray shirt, black shorts, which were assigned by the school for gym class, and a pair of running shoes. It was very obvious that the boy had come for gym class...Sam had gym class this period too.

The boy looked familiar to Dean, but then again they did attend the same school so Dean thought nothing of it. After examining the boy for a moment his hunting instincts kicked in, he couldn't make out the words that were being spoken, but it was every clear to him that the boy was panicked.

Dean's heart sank when he remembered where he had seen the boy before, he was Sam's friend 'what's-his-name'...it started with a 'B' he was sure. The boy's name didn't matter though, maybe Dean was being paranoid, it was probably nothing...

Dean's breath hitched when he saw the boy point to him, he was on his feet and hurrying over to the teacher and the boy even before Mr. Glass could even summon him.

Dean was already sure that something as wrong, but even more so, when Mr. Glass, a normally sarcastic and lighthearted man, called him in relentlessly serious voice. "Dean."

* * *

Thank you for reading friends! I really appreciate your reviews!

I apologize for the long wait...

Disneyland was amazing! I ate my weight in churros, caramel apples and Mickey Mouse shaped pretzels, in honor of Sam and I got my picture taken with Chip'n'Dale (the chipmunks—you know the rescue rangers) not to be confused with the Chippendales (male dancers)—but I would be more then willing to get my picture taken with them too;).


	10. Chapter 10

Thin Line

Chapter 10

Summary: John is walking a thin line. His obsession with hunting will jeopardize one son physically and both sons emotionally. Limp Sam to come.

Warning: **Touchy subject! **

Note: Thank you for reading! I really appreciate all your reviews and PMs, you are awesome! I think I replied to all of them, but if I missed someone, I'm sorry and thanks!

Enjoy...

* * *

Dean got to the front of the classroom in record time.

"Dean, Brett came to got you, your brother—." Mr. Glass tried to explain, but was cut off by an impatient Dean.

"Where is he?" Dean demanded.

"His in the nurse's office, he—" The boy started, but Dean was already running out the door.

He ran through the hall, he nearly took out the principal, but he didn't care he just kept going until he reached the door to the nurse's office. He didn't bother to knock, he just throw the door open.

The nurse was getting something out of a cabinet in the office; she was startled by Dean's entrance. "May goodness you gave me a fright, can I help you?"

"Where's Sammy? He's my baby brother—Sam Winchester."

"He's in the back room, right through that door." She told him.

"Is he okay, what happened?"

"He fainted in gym class, but I've checked him out and he seems to be okay. He probably just got a bit over heated, they were running the mile. I think he just needs some food, water and rest. Has he eaten today?"

Dean felt guilty as he answered. "I...don't know."

"That's fine, I've got some cheese and cracker and juice that I'll bring in."

Dean nodded he hurried to the back room, his brother was laying on a cot, unconscious or asleep, Dean wasn't sure. He had a cool compress on his forehead and he looked very pale and thin.

Dean sat on the edge of the cot. "Sammy?" He called as he stroked his brother's hair.

There was a light knock on the door and then it opened. The nurse came in with a cup of juice, a plastic bag filled with sliced cheddar cheese and a box of crackers.

"Has he come around yet?" The nurse asked.

"No, not yet." Dean didn't even look at her.

"I'll just set this over here. Have him eat something when he wakes up." The nurse explained as she set her load down on a table near the foot of the cot. "Should I call your parents?"

"Uh, no our Dad's out of town on business, so I'm taking care of Sam."

"Okay, when he wakes have him rest for awhile then he'll be okay to go home."

"Thanks." Dean said he waited for her to leave the room before speaking again to his brother, he knew Sam would be uncomfortable waking up with a stranger in the room.

"Sam?" Sam moaned and turned into Dean's touch. "That's it, come on Sammy, wake up."

"Go 'way." Sam muttered weakly not bothering to open his eyes, he scooted away from Dean.

"Oh come on, don't you wanna open up your eyes and look at me?

"Not really."

"I look even better than usual today...if I do say so myself."

"You're stupid." Sam said reluctantly cracking one eye open. "Aw, Dean! I think I'm gonna be sick."

Dean looked wildly around the room for something Sam could throw up in. "Hold on, let me find a trash can! What's wrong—is it your stomach?"

"No...It's your face." Sam smiled weakly.

Dean looked confused for a moment then he narrowed his eyes. "You're walking home."

Sam stuck out his bottom lip and gave Dean his puppy-dog eyes. "No, I'm not."

"How are you feeling?"

"Okay, just a bit tired. What happened?" He would never admit it, but he felt like crap, he ached, especially his head and he felt weak; he didn't think he could get up on his own even if he wanted to.

"You are not okay Sam. I wish you'd stop saying that!" Dean pleaded. "You've been having those damn dizzy spells and you fainted in gym class—that's not 'okay'."

"I'm sorry Dean." Sam was ashamed of himself for worrying Dean and for being so weak.

"Don't be sorry. Just tell me next time when you don't feel well."

"I will Dean. Did I really pass out in front of the whole class?" Sam's pale face turned red with embarrassment.

"How should I know? I wasn't there, but I bet you did...right in front of your little girlfriend." Dean teased.

_You are so weak, passing out in gym class, what a loser. It's amazing that you didn't cause an earthquake._

"Great, now I'm gonna have to go back to class an—"

"Back to class? Yeah right! We're going home where you can rest and _maybe_ I'll let you up sometime on Saturday. And that's a big maybe Mister."

"Aw Dean really I'm—"

"Sam we just talked about this, please just listen to me this one time."

"I just don't want you to worry about me."

"Well, apparently I need to worry, cuz last time you told me not to worry you ended up passing out in gym class."

"Well, can we go home now?"

"The nurse left some cheese and crackers and juice, she said you should eat some, then rest for a while and then we could go."

"Cheese! Do you realize how many calories are in cheese?" Sam shuddered. "I could eat almost 15 cups of lettuce and it would be as many calories as 1 slice of cheese! And don't even get me started on the fat."

"Sam we are not leaving 'til you eat some of this. I don't know what's gotten into you it's not like anyone is gonna tell Dad."

"Fine, but I'm not eating that cheese."

"We'll see." Dean sighed helping Sam sit up and then handing him some crackers and watching closely as Sam chewed each one for nearly a minute and then reluctantly swallowed.

He continued this practice until Dean was satisfied that Sam would make it to the car without fainting again.

"Happy now?" Sam asked bitterly.

"Just one slice of cheese and then we can go."

"No way."

_Sit here all night if you have to, it's not like you have anywhere to be._

"Come on Sammy." Dean said waving a slice of cheese temptingly in front of Sam's face. "You know you want it."

Sam did want it; he couldn't deny that even to himself.

_You don't need it._

"Fine." Sam said taking the cheese and examining it thoroughly before taking the tiniest nibble off the corner. It was so good and he wanted to let himself indulge.

_No more! Don't do it, give it back!_

After that nibble he reluctantly handed the piece of cheese back to Dean, he held it between his index finger and his thumb as if it were a dirty sock. "There. I want to go home now."

Dean sighed. "Fine. Let me help you though..."

Sam pulled himself up on his elbows; he winced and breathed out a soft. "Ow."

"What is it Sam? Are you okay?" Dean asked forcing Sam to lie back down.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Sam replied, rubbing his left elbow. "I probably just bumped my elbow when I fell."

"Let me see." Dean reached for Sam's arm.

_He's going to make you take off your sweatshirt...remember how tight your shirt is? You're not going to make him look at you, are you?_

"No!" Sam protested pulling his arm to his chest so Dean couldn't get it.

"Why not?"

"I just—it's fine, can we please just go?"

Sam pulled himself up into the sitting position and Dean had no choice up to help him stand. Dean knew if he didn't Sam would just did it himself. Sam swayed a bit when he got to his feet. Dean kept a tight hold on him.

"Do you need to sit back down for a minute?" Dean asked.

"No, let's just go home."

The boys slowly made their way out to the Impala, where Dean helped Sam slide into the passenger's seat and then, much to Sam's annoyance, helped him with his seatbelt. Dean went around the car and got in he looked over at Sam. Sam's head was now resting against the cool glass of the window, his eyes were closed.

Dean leaned over worried, pushing his brother's hair back so he could feel his forehead, Sam flinched at the touch. "Sammy? You okay?" Dean asked softly.

"Mm-hmm...jus' tired." Sam thin frame was abruptly shaken with a violent shiver.

"Cold?" Dean asked Sam nodded. "Hold on." Dean started the car, hoping it would warm up quickly, and then he struggled out of his leather jacket and covered Sam with it. He briskly rubbed Sam's shoulders trying to generate some heat.

Sam looked up at Dean. "Thanks." He felt like an ass, he had been a jerk to Dean all day.

Dean smiled as he pulled the hood of Sam's sweatshirt over his shaggy hair. Dean ruffled Sam's hair gently before he drove them home.

* * *

Dean shook Sam's shoulder. "Come on Buddy wake up." Sam only opened his eyes long enough to glare at his brother, Dean laughed. "You can go right back to sleep when we get inside."

Dean got out of the car, went to the passenger's side, and opened the door. He unbuckled his exhausted brother and practically drug Sam out of the car.

"No." Sam whined. "Just leave me out here and go away."

"You can't stay in the car Sammy, it's January you'll freeze."

"I don't care."

Dean pulled Sam into the house. It wasn't nearly as hard as it should have, because Sam had lost so much weight. Dean laid Sam down on the couch; he was both amused and concerned by his brother's lack of response. Sam immediately curled up in a ball and drifted off to sleep.

Dean pulled Sam's shoes off and then tucked a blanket around him. Dean sat on the coffee table that was set parallel to the couch and he just watched over his brother.

* * *

Sam woke to find himself on the couch; he could only vaguely remember the drive home. He was feeling much better now. He was still tired, but not overwhelmingly exhausted like before.

He looked around the house, he couldn't see Dean anywhere, but he could here soft music coming from the kitchen. He pushed the blanket away and started to stand. He didn't feel as weak as he had earlier, but he was still a bit unsteady.

He was still cold, but he ignored it and went into the kitchen to find Dean stirring what looked to be soup in a pan on the stove with a wooden spoon, humming along to music and bobbing his head in harmony with the beat.

When a guitar solo came on Dean abandoned his spoon for an air guitar and turned in Sam's direction. Dean hadn't heard Sam come in and was taken off guard when he saw Sam standing at the entrance of the kitchen with a smirk on his face.

"He's a triple threat, he sings, he plays imaginary instruments and he cooks!" Sam announced. "Any man would be happy to have you."

"And you're a comedian." Dean replied dryly with a blush creeping onto his face. He turned back to the stove and reclaimed his wooden spoon. "Are you feeling better now?"

Sam nodded. "How long was I asleep?"

Dean glanced at the clock. "'Bout four hours. You look better. I think you just needed some rest and food. You've been pushing yourself pretty hard lately—exercising a lot and not eating very much..."

"I thought the nurse said that I just got overheated."

"It's January, Kiddo, it was like 42 degrees outside...I don't think you got over heated. And besides, that nurse was on crake Dude." Dean said. "Go get washed up, I made some soup."

_How much are you going to let him stuff into you? Think of how much you've already had today._

"I'm really not very hungry."

Dean did not look amused. "I don't want you passing out on me again." Dean ladled generous amount of the soup onto a bowl. "I've been slaving over this hot stove for almost 5 minutes."

Sam sighed, knew that the day's events were fresh in Dean's mind and Dean was not going to let this go. "What kind of soup is it?"

"Chicken noodle."

"Can I see the soup can please?"

Dean shrugged he didn't understand stand why Sam would want to look at an empty soup can. "Sure." He replied. He tossed Sam the can.

Sam's eyes scanned the can's nutrition facts.

_You cannot eat that—155 calories in one cup!_

Sam put the can on the counter by the sink. "Dean?"

"What's the mater Sammy? You look kinda pale again."

"Nothin', I'm just..."

Dean looked concerned "You go lay back down, I'll bring it to you. Can you make it by yourself?"

"Yeah."

Not knowing what else to do Sam went back to the couch. A few minutes later Dean came in with a tray, which he placed over Sam's lap, and the bowl of soup.

_You can't eat that, think of something, anything!_

"Dean, my stomach doesn't feel so great all of a sudden."

"Well, it'll probably feel better once you've eaten."

"I don't think so..."

"Sure it will, you just need some food."

"I don't think that it'll help."

"Just eat a little and then I'll leave you alone."

Sam hesitantly ate a few spoonfuls of soup, before pushing it away. Dean looked from the bowl of soup to his brother.

"Is that all?" Dean asked Sam nodded. "I guess you can try some more a little later."

_No, you will not!_

"Sure." Sam replied with a small smile. "Thanks Dean."

Dean just nodded and took the plate and tray back to the kitchen. When he went back to the living room Sam had turned the TV on and Dean sat down beside him. Dean check Sam's forehead again for a temperature and Sam swatted his head away.

"I'm okay Dean."

"Jus' checkin'." Dean shrugged.

"Well don't." Sam whined he absentmindedly rubbed his elbow. The action did not go unnoticed by Dean.

"Is your elbow okay?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure? Let me see it." Dean demanded.

When Sam tried to protest this time, Dean forcefully grabbed his arm and pulled the baggy sweatshirt sleeve up, past Sam's elbow. A dark bruise covered Sam's elbow and it was slightly swollen.

Dean examined Sam's elbow and moved his arm around a bit while watching Sam's reaction. When he saw Sam wince, he immediately apologized.

"Sorry Bud, I'll get you some ice." Dean hurried into the kitchen and came back with an ice pack wrapped in a dishtowel, which he handed to Sam.

"Thanks Dean." Sam didn't want the ice, he was cold enough as it was, but Dean was waiting for him to put it on his elbow, so he did.

Dean grabbed the previously discarded blanket and covered Sam with it then he went back into the kitchen and came back with a glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol.

"Here take these." Dean insisted Sam obediently swallowed the pills that Dean handed him. "I think you should go to bed now."

_Wait a minute, you can't go to bed yet. You've been eating all day and you need to work it off. _

Bed sound so good to Sam, but he argued for the sake of arguing. "But Dean it's not even 7:30 yet."

"Well naughty little boys who pass out at school and don't eat all of their supper and disobey their older, wiser and better looking brother have to go to bed early."

_He's got you there...he is better looking. You should at least do some sit-ups before you to bed. _

Sam sighed. "Fine." He got up and headed to his bedroom, Dean followed him. "I don't need you to tuck me in."

"Ah-ah, listen to your elders Boy." Dean said taking hold of Sam's shoulders and herding him to his room. Dean pulled back the covers on the bed and helped Sam lie down, even though Sam didn't need his help, then he tucked Sam in. "Call for me if you need anything or if you start feeling sick again or if your arm hurts. Okay?"

Sam was nearly asleep already, but muttered. "Kay."

Dean watched his brother as he drifted off to sleep and the smile on his face turned into a frown. Something was not right with Sam and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

* * *

Hey friends,

Thank you for reading and those of you who review are awesome, thank you anonymous reviewers also.

I am sorry for making you wait so long for this chapter...I don't even know how many times I rewrote it.

A request for fainting was made in chapter three by skag trendy, it took me a while to work up to it, I hope it didn't disappoint—I know I went a little overboard with the 'brotherly fluff' so I hope you weren't falling asleep, the more serious medical mishaps are coming soon.

Sam's health is going to start deteriorating a lot more quickly then it probably would under normal circumstances, so please excuse medical inaccuracies.

Thank you,

callit


	11. Chapter 11

Thin Line

Chapter 11

Summary: John is walking a thin line. His obsession with hunting will jeopardize one son physically and both sons emotionally. Limp Sam to come.

Warning: **Touchy subject! **

Note: Thank you for reading! I really appreciate all your reviews and PMs, you are awesome!! I think I replied to all of them, but if I missed someone, I'm sorry and thanks!

Enjoy...

* * *

Sam woke the next morning to find the bright sun creeping in through the curtains. He knew Dean had let him sleep in, he looked at the clock, and it was 10:00AM.

_Get up! You need to exercise...you hardly did anything yesterday._

Sam got out of bed and was about to start doing some sit-ups when his bedroom door opened.

"Ever heard of knocking?" Sam snapped seeing Dean standing in the doorway.

"Sor-ry. I just came to check on you, I thought that you were still sleeping. Jeez, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."

_I bet he'd be pissed off too if he had to look in the mirror and see you staring back at him._

"Sorry." Sam muttered.

Dean nodded. "How do you feel?"

"Better, thanks."

"I still think you should take it easy today."

"I have stuff to do today." Sam protested.

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

""Like...well...I need to go for a run—Dad said I should."

"What! You are not going for a run today! You collapsed yesterday Sam."

"But..."

"No way." Dean said firmly closing the discussion. "Come get some food." Sam sighed, but followed Dean to the kitchen. "What do you want to eat? I know your stomach was bothering you yesterday."

"I'll just have some fruit." Sam replied.

"Ew, Sammy, fruit?"

"Yeah."

The boys sat at the table Dean devoured cold pizza and Sam nibbled on an apple. Dean noticed Sam holding his left arm close to his chest. "Is your arm okay?"

"It's fine." Sam replied absently. Now that he thought about it, his arm did kind of hurt, but there were more pressing issues to attend to—like how to get Dean to let him work out.

"For some reason I don't believe you." Dean looked unconvinced.

"Why not?"

"Just cuz, now let me look at it." Dean reached for Sam's arm, but Sam pulled away.

"No. It's fine."

"Fine, can you do this?" Dean was bending and extending his own arm at the elbow.

"Sure." Sam replied confidently. He could bend his arm fine, but when extending he didn't move it very far before he yelped and pulled it back towards chest.

"It's fine, huh?" Dean asked ignoring Sam glare. "Let me see." He looked at Sam's elbow, it was more swollen then it had been the day before and an ugly blackish bruise had formed.

Dean first felt around Sam's uninjured elbow then probed his injured elbow, trying to make a comparison. "It feels like something's out of place. I think we have to take a trip to the clinic."

"Aw, Dean can't you just do it?" Sam begged.

"You know I can't Sammy, what if you need a cast or something? And I don't know anything about elbows."

Sam let out a high-pitched whining noise. "I don't wanna go."

* * *

The young doctor examines the x-ray. "Partial dislocation." He announced. "It should be an easy fix, I'll reduce it and then Sam's arm will need to be immobilized in a sling for a week or so."

The doctor administered some painkillers and set about reducing the dislocation. Afterwards he wrapped Sam's elbow in an Ace bandage and settled Sam's arm in a sling.

"See Sammy, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Dean said as they got into the car to drive home.

"Guess not." Sam muttered softly.

"At least you didn't need a cast or anything." Dean said trying to cheer Sam up.

"Eh." Sam grunted moodily.

"You should thankful that I didn't ask the doctor to give you a full checkup." Dean growled. He was getting sick of Sam's attitude. "I didn't even mention that you passed out yesterday, but if I had we probably would have been there a lot longer. If you don't stop PMSing I swear I'll take you right back to the doctor."

"Sorry Dean, I guess I'm just tired. Thanks for not saying anything."

"You're welcome." Dean replied. Sam's apology seemed to restore his good humor. "I wonder what Dad'll say when he sees you."

"We don't have to tell him do we?" Sam asked.

_He'll probably laugh when he hears that you passed out in front of your whole class._

"I think he'll notice the sling Kiddo."

"I'll just take it off, I was doing just fine without it."

"The doc said a week."

"Yeah, but—"

"No and don't think I forgot about what I said earlier, when we get home I want you to lie down again and have something to eat."

* * *

"Sam come on!" Dean called banging on Sam's bedroom door. "It's Saturday night, we're going out to eat."

"Why?" Sam asked opening his door.

"Cuz, I feel like we never hang out anymore...please Sammy don't make me spend Saturday night at home." Dean begged sticking out his bottom lip in a pout.

"Why don't you take Betty?"

"I was about to ask her when you had to go and faint in the middle of class—like a girl— so I never got the chance. Now I'm stuck with you...some date you are."

"Can't we just stay home? I'll help you train or something, Dad would like that."

"First of all, Dad said we should socialize so I am not spending a perfectly good Saturday night training and how do you expect to help me with one arm?" Dean asked sternly. Sam shrugged. "That's what I thought, so we are going out and you are going to have fun whether you like it or not."

Sam sighed dramatically. "Fine."

Dean's stern look immediately turned to a grin. "Come on hurry up!"

_You're not going out in that, are you?_

"Uh, hold in, I have to change real quick."

"What's wrong with what you're already wearing?"

"I look gross."

"You are such a girl."

"Shut up!" Sam said he shut his door again and started digging through his closet.

_That's too small. If you wear that Dean won't be able to keep his food down._

After rejecting nearly every piece off clothing that he had, he found a large black long-sleeved shirt that he had no recollection of ever owning and set about putting it on. It was quite a challenge, as his injured elbow had stiffened up considerably and now he could barely move it.

Dean knocked on the door, this time more softly. "Do you need help getting dressed Kiddo?" He asked seriously, without even a hint of teasing in his voice.

_Oh God no! You cannot let him see you with your shirt off!_

Dean had stated to open the door, but Sam grabbed the doorknob and pulled it closed.

"NO!" Sam answered quickly. "I mean no thanks, I think I got it."

"Whatever you say. Just call if you need me."

"I will thanks." Sam sighed in relief.

Sam gingerly slipped his arm out of the navy blue sling, wincing as he did so, and pulled his shirt off. Sam struggled a bit to get his injured arm in the sleeve, he knew a button up shirt would have been easier, but all the ones he owned were fitted.

_The last thing you need is a fitted anything! Those are your skinny clothes, when you get thin, you can wear them. _

Dean knocked again. "Sam?"

"Hold your horses. I'm almost done." Sam finally got the shirt on and was now trying to get the sling back on.

"Are you sure you don't need any help?" Dean opened the door this time and Sam didn't try to stop him.

"Positive." Sam said with a frustrated air as he attempted to untangle his sling with one hand.

"Let me help you get your sling back on."

"I can do it."

Dean grabbed the sling from Sam's hand, ignoring Sam's glare. Sam begrudgingly let Dean help him put the sling back on.

"Thanks." He huffed.

"Let me get you a jacket."

Sam realized that he had already returned the sweatshirt that he'd barrowed from Dean the pervious day.

"Can I just use one of yours again? I still haven't had time to do laundry so all mine are still dirty."

Dean shrugged and ran back to his room. He grabbed the first sweatshirt he came across and brought it back to Sam. He waited for Sam to throw the oversized navy blue sweatshirt before he went to the car, calling for Sam to hurry up.

Sam looked at himself in the mirror before he went to follow Dean.

_Good, it's best to cover it up._

* * *

Dean was flipping through the menu, debating on what to get.

"What are you getting?" He asked Sam who hadn't even opened his menu.

"Salad."

"Aw come on Sam it's not like Dad's here, live a little."

"He'll know when he gets back on Monday and weighs me."

"Fine, whatever." Dean said looking back at his menu.

Sam was trying to be invisible, it felt like everyone was staring at him and laughing at him. He sank as far down in the booth as he could.

_They won't do that when you're skinny._

"Um, Dean can you order for me, just a plane salad, no dressing."

"Yeah, sure. Are you okay? You look really...freaked out. You don't think you're gonna pass out again, do you?"

_How can he not notice all the people staring at you?—They're making fun of you and laughing at you...maybe he's gotten used to it after all those years of being on the road with you. How could it have taken you so long to notice?_

"Yeah I'm fine. I'll be right back."

Sam hurried to the restroom, which was thankfully empty. He splashed some water in his face and then glanced at his reflection in the mirror.

_Pull yourself together! Just get back out there and have dinner with your brother. If Dean can ignore everyone, so can you._

When Sam returned to the table, the menus were gone so he knew the waitress had gotten their order. Dean had a suspicious looking smirk on his face.

"Dude what'd you do? Did you have a quickie while I was gone?" Sam asked.

"What? No, of course not!" Dean cried. "Why would you think that?"

"Then why do you have that look on your face?"

"Oh, no reason."

"Yeah right, Dude. What did you do? Pay someone to spit in my food or something?"

"I'm offended Sammy, what makes you think I'm capable of such a heinous act?"

"Because you've done it before...twice."

"I haven't a clue what your talking about." Dean said batting his eyelashes innocently. "You better be nice to me or I'll take back the surprise I got you..."

"Surprise?" Sam asked skeptically, Dean's surprises were never good. "What kind of surprise?"

"A good surprise." Dean said.

"You and I have very different ideas of what 'good' is."

"It's good." Dean said firmly.

"I don't believe you."

"What? Why not?"

"Experience."

"Dude I'm telling you, it's a good surprise this time...you'll see!"

* * *

Hey friends,

Thank you so much for reading! I really appreciate your reviews and you anonymous reviewers are awesome too!

I am _so_ sorry for the wait. There were some budget cuts at work and two people 'retired' so we're all trying to get used to it still and spring is always the busy season. I think I've got it down now though, so they next update shouldn't take too long.

Thanks again and have an awesome day,

callit


	12. Chapter 12

Thin Line

Chapter 12

Summary: John is walking a thin line. His obsession with hunting will jeopardize one son physically and both sons emotionally. Limp Sam to come.

Warning: **Touchy subject! **

Note: Thank you for reading! I really appreciate all your reviews and PMs—you are awesome! I think I replied to all of them, but if I missed someone, I'm sorry and thanks!

Enjoy...

* * *

Dean was rubbing his hands together in anticipation as the waitress came back with a large tray holding two big plates that were practically overflowing with food.

"Jeez Dean, you were so hungry that you had to order two dinners?" Sam laughed at his older brother's appetite.

_He can afford to eat, as many dinners as he wants, you however, just need to stick to your lettuce. _

"Naw, I'm not _that_ hungry...one of those is yours." Dean said with a wide toothy grin.

The smile dropped off Sam's face as the waitress set the plate of food in front of him—steak, mashed potatoes, steamed vegetables, bread and a large side salad.

"Look." Dean pointed to the salad. "I got you the plain salad you wanted too."

Sam's mouth was hanging open as he stared at the food. Dean was already cutting his steak and shoveling mash potatoes into his mouth.

"Your gonna catch flies Sammy." Dean said with his mouth full, pointing to Sam with his steak knife.

_He must he kidding. This is low, even for Dean._

Sam finally looked up from the large plate of food. "This is a joke right?"

"No, it's your surprise. You don't have to thank me or anything, after all what are brothers for?" Dean said when he saw Sam wasn't eating he nudged Sam's shin with his foot. "Eat up."

_Don't even think about it._

"D-dean...I can't...I—"

"Sure you can. Dad's not gonna find out, I'm not gonna tell."

Sam just shook his head and pushed the plate away, the aroma of the food was becoming like a siren's song calling him in. "I-I-I...Dean...I just can't."

"What do you mean you can't?" Dean looked at Sam for a minute trying to figure out what he meant, then a saw that sling that Sam's injured arm was resting in. "Oh...I get it, you need me to cut your meat for you. Why didn't you just say so, you don't have to be embarrassed." Dean grabbed Sam's plate and started cutting the steak into bite-sized pieces.

"No, Dean I can't eat it."

"Why not?" Dean asked pushing the plate back to Sam.

"It's a lot Dean and I still have a bunch of weight to lose."

"You're eating it." Dean said firmly.

_No your not..._

"I'm not eating it Dean."

"Sam this is stupid, just eat it."

_Tell him 'no' damn it!_

"No."

"You're taking this whole thing way too seriously."

_This is serious...your freakin' huge!_

"Come on Dean, this is serious, innocent lives are at risk."

"What do innocent lives have to do with your eating habits?"

"Well, um...I have to get skinny—"

"You're already skinny!"

_Ha! _

Sam scoffed. "I have to be skinny enough to get into that camp—remember?"

"I'm not a freakin' idiot Sam, I remember the hunt. I just don't see why you and Dad are being so stupid about this, if you ask me, you're asking for trouble."

"It's for the best...we can't just leave those kids out there with no protection and if I have to skip a few meals so that they won't die then so be it."

"I hear you Sam, but you still have to eat."

_P-lease, you do not __**have**__ to eat._

"Dean—"

"Sam I know you collapsed because you're not eating enough. You're making your self ill and I won't have it!"

_Ha! Listen to him going on as if you're one of this people with an eating disorder. You're a weakling that's why you passed out, not because you're sick. _

Sam laughed. "Come on Dean, your acting like I really have a problem. I'm just pretending—acting, like Dad told me to. It's not like I really have an eating disorder." When Dean didn't look convinced, Sam added. "You believe me don't you?"

Dean looked Sam in the eye for moment. He knew that if Sam was lying he would break the eye contact. Dean was comforted when Sam didn't look away, Sam gazed steadily back at Dean with a goofy smile on his face.

"I believe you Sam." Dean replied returning Sam's smile with one of his own.

"Good."

"Do me a favor though?" Dean asked.

Sam knew what Dean wanted from him so he said nothing.

"Just eat it Sam, please? I know it's a lot and if Dad finds out he'll be really pissed, but..."

_We just went over this!—you cannot eat that. What do we have to do to drill this through Dean's thick skull? _

Sam sighed in frustration.

"Sammy please? It'll make me feel better."

_No, no, no, no, NO!_

"Dean I already told you I—"

"It'll ease my mind...I won't be so worried about you."

"I can't!" Sam snapped.

Sam wasn't the only one who was losing his patients. "Why not?" Dean growled.

"We've been over this Dad said—"

"I don't care what Dad says! He's being an asshole." Dean yelled. Sam was taken back by the sharpness of his brother's voice.

Dean's loud voice got the attention of some of the other customers; he didn't notice or care though. However, Sam slid down in his seat, self-consciously looking down at his hands, hoping to avoid the harsh stares.

"Dean..." Sam pleaded with his brother to calm down.

"Don't 'Dean' me! Eat it or I swear I'll shove it down your throat!"

Sam knew that Dean's treat was not an idle one, so faced with that ultimatum Sam picked up his fork.

_Fine, eat, but only a tiny bit._

Dean watched Sam closely, he had a big grin on his face and he nodded encouragingly at Sam. He couldn't quite place the expression that he saw on Sam's face.

Sam bit his lip nervously as he looked at the plate of food; he poked a steamed carrot with his fork. Sam stabbed the carrot after a while, but before bringing it to his mouth; he looked up at Dean helplessly.

"Do I have to?" Sam asked.

"Unless you like the alternative better?"

"That's okay." Sam replied. He looked back at his plate; he let out a soft whimper.

Dean finally realized that Sam's expression was fear—he looked terrified.

"Sammy it's not gonna bite and Dad's is not going to find out I promise." Dean reassured him.

Sam finally gave in and put the carrot into his mouth. He couldn't stand it anymore. The smell of the food was overwhelming.

He started to inhale all the food on his plate more quickly than he even thought was possible.

_Slow down! Damn it, stop! _

Sam ignored it. His eating was mindless. He was eating so fast he couldn't taste anything.

Dean finally broke through to Sam. "Jeez, Sam, slow down. You're gonna choke."

Sam realized what he was doing and slowly set his fork down. He looked down at his plate. It was nearly empty save a few pieces of steak and the bread, along with the side salad that hadn't been touched.

He finished chewing the food that he had in his mouth. "Sorry." He muttered. He looked down as if he was ashamed.

"Don't be sorry. I guess you were hungry after all huh?"

Sam nodded slowly.

"Eat some more." Dean insisted. "Just remember to chew this time."

_The damage is already done. You might as well finish it._

Sam picked up the fork again and, at only a slightly slower pace, cleaned his plate.

"Are you gonna eat that?" Sam asked pointing to Dean's bread.

"Go for it." Dean said handing the bread to his brother.

"Thanks." Sam quickly polished that off too.

"So, what do you say?—Do you think we need some dessert?"

Sam was about to object and say that he'd had enough, when the waitress reappeared at their booth.

"Would you gentlemen like to see a dessert menu?" She asked.

"That'd be great thanks." Dean replied.

The waitress handed each of the boys a menu. "I'll be back to get your order."

"You know what you want yet Sammy?"

Sam glanced over the menu, there all kind of desserts: pie, cake, pudding, ice cream. He could already guess that Dean was getting the blueberry pie.

He scanned through his options a piece of chocolate cake—he couldn't remember when he had last had chocolate.

"I think I'm gonna get the chocolate cake." Sam told Dean. "What about you?"

"Pie, blueberry pie." Dean replied. Sam shook his head and laugh, Dean was so predictable.

Sam watched the waitress set the cake in front of him. He quickly grabbed his fork and took a bite, as much as he wanted to savor it, he couldn't bring himself to do anything, but devour it.

When Sam finished his dessert, he wiped his face on his napkin. He looked up from his plate to see Dean staring at him.

"Jeez maybe we could sign you up for one of those eating contests, huh?" Dean teased. Sam looked down, clearly embarrassed. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah." Sam replied.

* * *

Dean had paid the bill and the boys were about to leave when they heard a familiar voice call from behind them. "Dean!"

Dean spun around and saw Betty waving to him from a booth where she had been sitting with a few of her friends. She went to the boys. "Hey guys. Are you feeling better Sam? I heard about what happened."

Sam could feel his face turning red, but he responded to her question with a nod, although he didn't look at her.

_Great, the whole school probably knows by now. _

"Good." Betty said. She looked up at Dean. "It's so nice of you to take a night off from seducing teenage girls to send some time with your little brother. I know how hard that most have been for you."

"I try." Dean shrugged in mock modestly.

Sam felt extremely awkward standing in-between two lovesick teens, who had forgotten he was there because they were so caught up in their banter. He backed away from the two and decided to wait for Dean at the car.

"I bet there are lots of broken hearts tonight...or empty beds."

"You can't please everyone, besides I'm trying to cut back."

"Oh really?" Betty giggled. "You might be able to find a **Sex Addicts**** Anonymous** meeting at the church, if you're really serious about quitting." "Maybe Sammy and I'll stop by on the way home."

Instead of continuing the teasing, Betty looked up at Dean shyly. "I wanted to call and make sure everything was okay—you know with Sam, but a realized I never got your phone number..."

"I don't think I ever got yours either." Dean replied with a big goofy grin.

"Well, here." Betty grabbed a paper coaster a near-by empty table and wrote down her phone number. Dean did the same and then the two exchanged numbers. "Call me sometime."

"Definitely."

"See ya." Betty said heading back towards her friends, who had watched the whole scene and giggle at the two.

"Wait!" Dean called as he watched her walk away. She turned around. "I-if you're not doing anything later tonight, wanna go to the movies?...with me."

"I'd like that."

After Dean took down directions to Betty's house, he looked around for Sam. He knew Sam had probably decided to wait for him at the car.

Sam was already sitting in the car when Dean got in. Dean had a big grin on his face when he looked at his brother.

"Guess Betty doesn't hate you anymore, huh?" Sam asked in an uninterested voice.

"Not anymore." Dean replied he pulled the coaster out of his pocket and waved it in Sam's face. "She gave me her number."

"Neat." Sam grunted then turned away from his brother to look out the window.

"Neat? Neat! Is that all you have to say? I just got Betty's number and we're going out to the movies after I drop you off."

"Good for you Dean." Sam said trying to put a little enthusiasm in his voice. He really was happy for Dean; he was just now starting to reap the consequences of overeating.

Sam's actions were finally catching up to him. His stomach had grown accustom to eating less, over the last few weeks it had shrunk. Now, as a consequence for overeating, Sam's stomach was cramping horribly.

He was so full he thought he was going explode, but worst the thing of all was that he finally realized what he had done. In his mind, he tried to remember exactly what he had eaten.

He could only remember looking down at his empty plate.

* * *

Hey there friends,

Another long wait...I'm sorry.

Thank you so much for reading and reviewing, I really appreciate it and thank you for being patient. I hope you enjoyed the update.

Summer always brings the magical gift of uninvited relatives...namely my brother, who insists on staying up all night trying to conqueror Rome (on his computer game). I'm seriously considering changing my locks.


	13. Chapter 13

Thin Line

Chapter 13

Summary: John is walking a thin line. His obsession with hunting will jeopardize one son physically and both sons emotionally. Limp Sam to come.

Warning: **This chapter is kinda gross...just so ya know. And please, please, please don't get any ideas from this.**

Note: Thank you for reading! I really appreciate all your reviews and PMs, you are awesome!! I think I replied to all of them, but if I missed someone, I'm sorry and thanks!

Enjoy...

* * *

On the drive home Dean looked over at Sam who was gazing moodily out the window, with his arms crossed tightly over his stomach.

"Is your stomach bothering you?" Dean asked.

"'s fine." Sam grunted.

"Yeah right." Dean scoffed. "I told you not to eat so fast."

"Shuddup." Sam growled.

"Jeez, I buy you dinner and this is how you treat me? See if I do something nice for you again." Dean teased. Sam didn't take the bait, instead he went back to looking out the window.

Dean pulled up to the house and Sam jumped out of the car before it came to a complete stop.

"Hey what's your hurry? Gotta hot date?—Oh wait that's me." Dean asked not waiting for a reply. "I don't know when I'll be back, don't leave the house, lock the door."

"I will." Sam said shortly. "See ya, have fun on your date." Sam said quickly before closing the car door and running into the house.

Sam slammed the front door shut and locked it, then looked out the window to make sure Dean wasn't following him inside. He watched as Dean drove away from the house.

Sam ran to the bathroom and pulled out the scale so it sat on the floor of the bathroom facing a mirror. He kicked off his shoes, then he took his sling off and tossed it aside, he pulled his shirt and sweatshirt over his head and then he stepped out of his pants.

He took a deep breath before reluctantly stepping on the scale. "118." Sam read aloud.

_Great job kid, you've gained three pounds._

Sam looked at himself in the mirror. He nearly started hyperventilating, he was growing wider by the second.

He sat down abruptly hugging his knees to his chest and making a conscious effort not to look at the mirror.

"Don't panic." He muttered to himself. "I can run it off."

_Or you could just throw it up._

Sam perked up a bit at the idea. He slowly stood back to his feet, only to walk a step or two the toilet where he dropped to his knees.

He had to admit that he wasn't exactly sure how to do this. Suddenly he got that feeling that this wasn't a very good idea.

"No." He told himself out loud, pushing himself away from the toilet.

Eating only lettuce for nearly a month was one thing, but throwing up your meals was something else.

Wasn't it?

_It's not like you're going to do it all the time. You lost control—you screwed up and now you have to fix it. Don't be selfish you need to do this for Dad and Dean and those innocent kids who are dying. How will you be able to help with this hunt if you keep getting fatter? Just do it. _

"Just this once." Sam muttered. He felt guilty, not only for eating all that food, but for being so selfish.

_That's right 'just this once'...as long as you never eat that much again._

Sam pulled himself back toward the toilet. He suddenly felt very nervous that Dean had forgotten something and would come inside or that John would get back early from his hunting trip.

Sam turned on the shower and the sink faucet and locked the bathroom door, hoping to drown out the noise.

Sam knelt back down in front of the toilet and lifted the lid. He paused a moment, trying to think of anything else he could do to prolong the inevitable. Short of shoving the entertainment system in front of the front door to keep any unwanted intruders out and barring the windows, he could think of nothing.

He brought his hand up to his mouth, which he opened as wide as he could, and shoved his right index finger down his throat, then quickly pulled it back out. He coughed and gagged briefly, but nothing came up.

He was a bit puzzled, but he tried again. This time he dug his finger in deeper and again pulled it back out quickly, to avoid throwing up on his hand. He coughed and gagging, but more intensely this time and for a longer period.

Still nothing came up.

At this point he was more irritated than anything and the thought of throwing up on his hand really disgusted him. He was about ready to give up when his eyes locked on the long handle of Dean's blue toothbrush. His eyebrows shoot up and a light bulb turned on.

A hinted of a smile crossed his face as he thought of how much easier it would be to stick that toothbrush down his throat than his own finger, since his hand prevented him from pushing down any further. And now he wouldn't have to worry about vomiting on his hand. This was the perfect solution.

Sam rinsed the end of the toothbrush off in the sink and then went back to the toilet and put it down his throat. He held it there until he really started to gag and only took it out when he knew he was going to throw up. Once he was done he whipped his mouth with toilet paper.

He knew he didn't get anywhere near all of his dinner out and prepared himself to try again.

This was so much harder than he had expected it to be.

Again he held the toothbrush down his throat, this time to help the process, Sam tried to think of things that disgusted him. Fortunately, he had a weak stomach. Although it made him the butt of many jokes with Dean, it worked to his advantage in this situation.

He could remember one time when the family was traveling through a seeming deserted stretch of road, with no bathroom in site. Dean had gone off into the dense forest to take care of business and when he returned Sam was digging through his duffle bag, looking for a clean shirt to exchange for his dirty, sweaty t-shirt. Sam finally slipped into a new t-shirt, but didn't notice the strange colored stain until he had it on.

He asked Dean what it was and Dean told Sam that he had run out of toilet paper. Sam throw up everywhere and continued to gag even after Dean admitted that he was just joking.

Dean was laughing about it for weeks afterwards.

In fact, just remembering the moment made Sam sick all over again, of course he was so full that he was slightly nauseous as it was.

He was finally satisfied with how much he'd thrown up and put the toothbrush aside. He rinsed his mouth out with water, then started cleaning up the bathroom and turned off the water.

He quickly thought up a story to tell Dean about his toothbrush and then hide it at the very back of the drawer.

He casually walked out of the bathroom and into the living room. He sat on the couch and turned on the TV. He felt much better now and his mood had improved drastically.

_That wasn't so bad._

* * *

Dean walked into the house at nearly 1:00 in the morning, he looked flushed and he had on the same goofy smile that he had been wearing for the last few weeks.

"Hey Sammy, 'm home."

Sam looked over the back of the couch so he could see his brother and smiled at the sight. "You look like you had a good time."

Dean sighed in contentment. "It was nice."

Sam laughed. "Nice?"

"Yeah." Dean seemed to be lost in thought for a while, daydreaming with a fond smile on his face. After a while he shook himself out of his thoughts and back to reality. "You seem less...angry." Dean commented as he throw his jacket on a table and sat beside Sam on the couch.

"Thanks, I think." Sam replied with a scoff.

"What crawled up your ass earlier?"

"I think you were probably right, I must have eaten too fast."

"When will you learn that I am always right, Little Brother?" Dean asked as he affectionately ruffled Sam's hair and then hammered him in the side of the head with a pillow.

Sam grabbed another pillow and smacked Dean in the face with it. The brothers indulged in an intense pillow fight, which ended with both of them on the ground yelling 'Bitch' and 'Jerk' so loudly they could be heard three house down.

They laid on there backs panting and laughing, but still holding their pillows close just incase the other decided to attack again.

"Hey Dean."

"What?"

"I may have _accidentally _dropped your tooth brush in the toilet."

"What do you mean you _may_ have?"

"It _may_ have been an accident."

"You little Bitch!" Dean growled hitting Sam with the pillow again, reinstating the pillow war.

Dean sat up after nearly ten minutes and slowly set his pillow on the ground and raised his hands in surrender.

"Truce."

Sam eyed Dean suspiciously for a moment then slowly laid his pillow down also.

"Truce." He agreed.

"I'm gonna go got a water bottle. Want one?" Dean asked.

"Sure."

Sam watched as Dean went into the kitchen and smiled to himself.

_See? Throwing that up made everyone happy._

"Yeah." Sam murmured thoughtfully.

* * *

When Dean came back in to the living room Sam was still camped out on the floor. Dean sat facing him although Dean didn't look at him. Sam didn't seem to notice the way Dean nervously bite his lip, Sam was too caught up in how great this evening had turned out.

"Here." Dean passed Sam a bottle, but instead of water it was a cold beer. Sam looked the bottle over then gave Dean a puzzled look.

"What's this for?"

Dean was staring at a spot on the ugly brownish orange carpet and took a long swig of the beer before speaking. He slowly meet Sam's eyes.

"I need to talk to you about something." Dean said slowly.

"How many times do I have to tell you that you can talk to me about anything?" Sam asked gently.

"I know that."

"Then what is it?"

"You havta promise not to tell Dad..."

* * *

Hey friends,

Thank you all for being ridiculously patient! And for reading and reviewing.

I was sent out of town on business over a **month** ago with less than a six hour warning and no real idea of when I'd be back. Anyway I'm home now and hoping that you don't all hate me.

I have to say though, after a month with virtually no Supernatural one of the first things I did when I got home was pop in the DVDs! Now that I've finally finished this chapter I'm going to catch up on my alerts.

**Please do not get any ideas from this story, I certainly wouldn't want to turn anyone to bulimia.**


	14. Chapter 14

Thin Line

Chapter 14

Summary: John is walking a thin line. His obsession with hunting will jeopardize one son physically and both sons emotionally. Limp Sam to come.

Warning:

Note: Thank you for reading! I really appreciate all your reviews and PMs, you are awesome!! I think I replied to all of them, but if I missed someone, I'm sorry and thanks!

Enjoy...

* * *

Sam scoffed. "'Cause Dad and I often have deep meaningful conversations with each other, where cry in each others arms and share our deepest, darkest secrets."

"I'm serious Sam."

"Okay, I won't."

"Promise."

"I promise I won't tell Dad." Sam recited. "Jeez Dean, what'd ya do? Rob a bank."

"I wish. He'd take that news better." Dean said pausing again to sip his beer. "Drink up Sammy." He urged. "You'll need it."

Sam brought the bottle to his lips—_Ah-ah! You did not just throw up all that food for nothing! _

Sam set the beer down, fortunately Dean didn't notice. Dean was toying with his own bottle, and occasionally he took a sip. He was so deep in thought; he seemed to have forgotten that Sam was sitting right in front of him.

Sam tried to be patient, but Dean was making him nervous. Sam cleared his throat loudly trying to get Dean's attention. If Dean heard Sam he didn't acknowledge him, he continued to drink his beer.

"Dean?"

"I need another beer." Dean announced.

"Oh my god you knocked her up!" Sam exclaimed.

"What?" Dean asked he looked horrified for a second then laughed. "No!"

"Aw, I was kinda looking forward to being an uncle." Sam teased.

"Don't hold your breath!" Dean snorted. He laughed again. "Uncle Sam!" He laughed even harder at the thought of Sam on an old 'Uncle Sam' poster. "Now I want to have a kid just so they can call you Uncle Sam!"

Sam playfully snatched the beer from Dean's hand. "I think you've had enough and you, stop changing the subject! Tell me what it is already!"

Dean looked down at the floor and started to pick at an invisible thread on his pants. "Sam I think I'm in love."

Sam raised an eyebrow, he was pretty sure that he and Dean had already had this conversation. "I know you told me, remember?"

"I'm serious Sam." Dean sighed.

"Okay, so is that the big news?" Sam asked.

"I'm getting to that, just give me second."

Sam got more concerned, Dean didn't usually have problems telling him things. "You're freaking me out a bit, this sounds serious."

"It is serious." Dean replied. "Sam...I think I really love this girl."

"So you said."

Dean ignored him. "Well Sam I don't know how to say it."

"Would you just spit it out!" Sam demanded. He was getting more than a little irritated that Dean kept beating around the bush.

"I don't know Sammy...I just don't want you to feel like I'm trading you in. I just..."

"Dean is that what this whole thing is about? I know your not trading me—"

"That's not all. I'm graduating soon, well me and Betty and well..."

Sam felt his heart pounding; the air seemed to have left his lungs.

"Betty's going away to college in New York and I'm..." Dean paused again. He didn't need to go on Sam already knew what he was going to say, but Dean continued anyway. "...I'm thinkin' about going with her."

If there was anything left in Sam's stomach he would have thrown it all up right there. He stumbled to his feet and ran to the bathroom; he didn't even hear Dean calling his name. He slammed the bathroom door shut and locked it behind himself.

He turned every faucet on that he could the bathtub, the sink. He tried to drown out the sound of Dean banging on the door. He did not want to talk to Dean right now.

How could he do this? Dean had always promised that he wouldn't leave Sam no matter what. Sam could remember Dean's first _real_ girlfriend, Dean had told him that no girl could ever drag them apart. They'd even cut themselves and did a handshake, on Dean's insistence since Sam had said it was pointless, they were already blood brothers after all.

He needed Dean. He needed Dean to reassure him that he wasn't going insane, to help him at least co-exist with John, they had always protected each other and taken care of each other. He needed Dean to tell him that everything was going to turn out all right.

He really hated Betty. Sure logically he know it wasn't really her fault, but she was taking Dean away from him. He didn't care if it was childish, Dean was his first, Dean was his brother, and his best friend...Dean was the only thing he had.

Worst of all, though was the realization that Betty wasn't stealing Dean from him, Dean was going voluntarily, because he wanted to.

_He's leaving you. He can't even stand the sight of you anymore. He wants to leave and pretend that you never existed. He's leaving you with John and he's not coming back._

Sam lifted the lid of the toilet and knelt down on the floor, he could still hear Dean in yelling for him to come out. "Go away." He whispered to himself. He stuck his index finger down his throat. Although he was only dry heaving at that point, he didn't care.

He didn't feel quit so sad and betrayed.

* * *

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Thanks you all once again for reading and reviewing. I can't tell you how sorry I am for the wait. I wish the chapter was longer, but I wanted to get something up ASAP.

My computer had a melt down and had to be sent away to some special computer place in Texas to restore the files. I haven't been able to get on to my e-mail, which had nothing to do with my computer's melt down, just my own stupidity.

Anyway, thank you very much to those of you who hung in there and waited for the update. Take care!


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